


With Enemies Like These

by Kat_Among_Pixies



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Gen Fic, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-18
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Among_Pixies/pseuds/Kat_Among_Pixies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna usually kept away from Warren Peace, since their fathers had that fierce battle all those years ago. But with her grade at stake, she's determined to get along, against her cousin's wishes. Her choice though, could cost her far more than an 'A'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Vote Against Warren

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.  
  
Chapter One- A Vote against Warren**  
  
Tapping my pencil against the desk, I along with the rest of the class waited for Mr. Mnemonic our Hero History teacher to arrive. It was not like him to be late I thought, as the last few stragglers came in. One of them was Warren Peace, the resident pyrokinetic at Sky High. He dropped his bag carelessly on his desk, taking the seat behind me. Automatically I glanced at my cousin Paul Findle, who had followed Warren to his seat with a resentful glare. He caught me looking at him, gave me a meaningful look and then stared out of the window.  
  
Paul had an intense dislike for Warren. Okay, Paul and Warren hated each other with a passion. Warren's father Barron Battle had at one time crushingly defeated my father and Paul's uncle, Charles Arrian aka The Shield during an attack against the city. My dad was badly injured as a result and though he recovered, he wasn't the same since- not as strong or as fast as he once was.  
  
One might be thinking that going to a school which produced its fair share of super heroes and villains, such a thing is pretty common place- and it is. But Paul had always been overly proud (in my opinion) of our heritage. Our family had produced more heroes than any other in Maxville. Granted, it was not usually through linear inheritance- an uncle here, a second cousin there (though my dad and I were a rare exception), cropped up fairly frequently.  
  
My father however was one of the best and it really hurt Paul when he was beaten. I say, was one of the best- he retired soon after the encounter. Paul maintains that it was because of Barron Battle but my dad said it wasn't- that he wanted to get out of the game long before that and focus on our family. In any case Paul wouldn't let it go and never missed an opportunity to piss Warren off- making snide comments about Warren whenever his back was turned, but always within earshot.  
  
Mr. Mnemonic entered the class quickly, balancing a stack of papers on top of his briefcase. "Good morning, class. Sorry I'm late. I'd some last minute grades to fill in. If you'll give me a minute... "  
  
He put his briefcase down and picking up the papers, went around the class handing them out. It was the quiz he'd given two days before and as he went around the room, he murmured things like, "Not bad Henry...very good Alice...er, Daniel...please see me after class-"  
  
When Mr. Mnemonic handed Paul his quiz, Paul took one look at it and grinned at me. I returned the smile, wishing I felt as happy.  
  
"Anna... not one of your best I'm afraid," Mr. Mnemonic murmured as he handed me my paper.  
  
My heart sank as I stared at it. C-minus. I was going to have to settle down and work really hard if I had any hope of counteracting it.  
  
"Warren... excellent. Keep it up."  
  
I glanced back to where Warren was sitting. He had quickly shoved the quiz into his bag and caught my eye, giving me a look as if to say, 'Lose something?'  
  
Nervously I turned back around, just in time to see our teacher return to his desk. "All right everyone. I'm going to assign you a special project that I've been working on. You will be divided into groups of four. You will each choose who will be the head of your group. Each group will have a special topic that you will present in about three weeks' time. Please get out your pen and write your group number, your topic and the other three people you will be working with. Group One- Topic: The Evolution of Super Hero Tactics. Members- Alicia Detten, Simon Todd, Vanessa Gregory, and Sheila Patterson. Group Two- Topic: Influential Superheroes and Villains: Past, Present, and Future. Members- Jana Vega, Anna Arrian, Paul Findle, and Warren Peace. Group Three..."  
  
Horror-stricken, I turned to Paul who had a look of incredulous shock on his face, which was soon replaced by rage. As for Warren, I wasn't even about to turn around. But I heard his sharp intake of breath which, coupled with my all-too-vivid imagination was more than enough.  
  
After class the three of us went to Mr. Mnemonic (who seemed to be expecting us) to ask that either Paul or Warren be switched with someone from another group.  
  
"Before any of you say anything," Mr. Mnemonic said as we all started talking at once, "I should let you know that I'm not changing the arrangements. Whatever grievances you have with each other you will simply have to work it out among yourselves."  
  
"There's nothing to work out," Warren said defiantly, giving Paul a furious glance. "I'm not dealing with him- he's beyond impossible!"  
  
Mr. Mnemonic said, "I beg your pardon?" at the same time that Paul muttered, "You're one to talk," not too quietly. But Warren had heard him and clenched his fists, smoke already curling from between his fingers.  
  
"Mr Mnemonic," I said desperately, "This isn't going to work. There's no way we'll be able to-"  
  
"You're going to have to make it work, Anna. This project is more than presenting the various aspects of Hero History. It's about being able to work and co-operate with all types of people. It's what you'll have to do in the real world. And it also counts for thirty-five percent of your grade. I'm sorry, but that's my final word." With that he picked up his briefcase and walked out of the class.  
  
Leaving us alone.  
  
xxxxxx  
  
So there it was- two guys who hated each other's guts, a girl who didn't even show up for class that day, and myself. Needless to say getting the project completed was not going to be easy. As soon as Mr. Mnemonic left Paul immediately insisted that he be the leader of the group, to which Warren of course objected strongly.  
  
"Why you?" he asked sharply.  
  
"Why _not_ me?" Paul retorted.  
  
"Look, I'll be the leader," I said immediately, trying to avoid an argument.  
  
"No way," Warren said, giving me a look that indicated general suspicion. "No offense, but I trust you about as much as I trust him."  
  
"You didn't exactly do too well on the last quiz either," Paul added, willing to stab his own cousin in the back to gain power.  
  
"So what then?" I said, thoroughly annoyed by now. "Jana Vega? She's not even here today and I don't know a thing about her."  
  
"Then I'll be the leader," Warren said stolidly.  
  
"Over my dead body," Paul scoffed.  
  
"Oh, you really think that's the smartest thing to say to me?"  
  
"Is that a _threat_ , Peace?"  
  
"Will you guys just shut up?" I said, sick already of their arguing.  
  
It went on like that for nearly twenty minutes, till it was grudgingly decided that Paul would be the leader for now, at least until we met Jana and figured out whether she should be assigned the role as the neutral leader of the group. Warren didn't like that one bit, but we took a vote- two against one. I knew Paul could get cocky and a little crazy when placed in a position of authority but he was family. Besides, I did take offense at Warren's remark about not trusting me. It wasn't as if I ever gave him any reason not to.  
  
We scheduled our first meeting for the following day, right after school in Study Hall which we knew would be mostly empty. Then we went our separate ways.


	2. Never Let It Go

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Two-Never Let It Go**

**  
**

For the rest of the day I came up with plans, strategies on how we all could get the project done without killing one another, but each idea was feebler than the last. Paul jokingly said I looked as if I were trying to lay an egg as I screwed up my face in concentration during Hero Arts. Mrs. Julie our teacher was currently demonstrating how to make an effective dramatic entrance, as do all great heroes.

"We're going to have to make the best of it you know," I told him, as we got on the school bus that afternoon.

"It's not right, Anna. How could Mr. Mnemonic do this? I mean Warren- of all people?" Paul said, fuming.

"Well he did it. No use crying over it now."

"Who's crying?" Paul said, punching me playfully on the arm. But he still looked upset. "I swear though, if he thinks he going to-"

"Now Paul, don't you start anything." I said warningly. "I need to get a good grade on this project. I can't afford to score anything less than an A."

Paul frowned. "Why do you assume I'm going to do something?"

"You always do," I said calmly as we rose into the air.

He made a scornful noise. "Well can you blame me?" he lowered his voice. "You know what that lowlife's father did to Uncle Charles."

"Paul that was years ago," I said softly, staring straight ahead.

"It doesn't-!" Paul snapped then stopped, taking a moment to compose himself before saying in a controlled voice, "It doesn't matter, Anna. How can you be so cold about this?"

"I'm not," I said earnestly, surprised at his sudden outburst. "It's just that...you're more bitter about this than even Dad is. It's part of the job. It happens."

"If it wasn't for Warren's psycho father, Uncle Charles would still be active- he'd still be keeping Maxville safe and saving the world-"

"You don't know that," I said reasonably. "You heard what Dad said. He wanted to retire anyway."

"Oh, Anna... he tells you that, but I've seen him in action. Helping people, fighting crime. He loved it." His face filled with resentment. "He was a good Hero but he could have been great, you know? I mean really great. He had the potential to be just as good as the Commander. Better, even."

I sighed, remembering how wonderful Dad looked, swooping in to save the day on the six 'o clock news. "I know. But frankly..."

"What?" Paul looked at me closely, as if daring me to say the wrong thing.

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell Paul how I really felt about it. My cousin always had such high expectations for our family. His parents didn't have any super powers and his greatest desire was for my father to be not only his absolute best, but _the_ absolute best- to be internationally renowned and the stepping stone for a family from which super hero legends emerged. As expected, he was often disappointed. My thoughts wandering, I remembered when my father was defeated by Barron Battle... Paul's biggest disappointment of all.

I was only ten when it happened. Paul was eleven. We came to my house after school and found my mother in tears with various relatives sitting around her, comforting her as best they could.

The ordeal was a horrible blur: Paul and I asking a million questions; relatives swarming around, trying to help but only getting in the way; my Aunt Nia and Uncle Matthew, Paul's parents, flipping television channels frantically, trying to discover what had become of Barron Battle and whether he was still at large.

xxxxxx

_"Is Dad gonna be okay?" I whispered to my mother as she opened the door and came outside of the bedroom. Doctor Fort, the local physician for the heroes of Maxville emerged soon after. He looked very tired._

_"He's going to be okay, honey," my mother said softly, wiping tears and trying to smile reassuringly. "But...oh Anna, he won't be able to-"_

_"Would you two like to see him now?" Doctor Fort cut in. He glanced at my mother and shook his head almost imperceptibly._

_"Okay," Paul and I said together._

_My father was lying in bed, his eyes closed. His torso was wrapped tightly in bandages as was his right leg. He had cuts and bruises on his face, and on his arms. On a chair, in the corner of the room, lay the tattered remnants of his black and silver costume. Next to it a shining silver shield stood gleaming unnaturally brightly._

_I turned back to my father who lay sleeping. Paul had gone on the other side of the bed with an unreadable expression. We said nothing for some time as we looked down at him. My mother had always told me that I looked a lot like my father. I saw it then: tall, thick black hair, brown eyes, firm set mouth and a solid frame. Paul was tall too and he already had a larger than average build for his age. But the similarities ended there. His brown hair, deep black eyes, and dry voice, which made nearly everything he said sound sarcastic, was inherited from Aunt Nia._

_Dad had always seemed so untouchable, so strong. Seeing him lying there so helplessly shocked me in a way I never thought possible. I began to cry._

_"Shhh!" Paul said urgently, but Dad opened his eyes and looked kindly at us._

_"Hey you," he said, his words sounding a little slurred._

_"Dad?" I said timidly, afraid to get too close to him._

_"I'm all right Annie. Come here you two."_

_Trembling, I went to his side. Looking closer I saw that he had a nasty looking row of stitches on the side of his head, near his hairline. I choked back tears._

_"Daddy," was all I could say before my voice failed me._

_"It's okay Anna. He's going to be all right. And as soon as he's better, he's gonna get that Barron Battle and make him pay- aren't you, Uncle Charles?"_

_My father gave him a pained look. "I'm okay, Paul. I'll be fine. But there's something you two should know."_

_"What, Dad?"_

_"I think...I think I'm going to call it a day, you guys. Protecting Maxville was an honor... a real adventure. But it's time for me to step down. Hang up my... shield, you could say." He chuckled at the small joke and I smiled at him, relief flooding me. He was going to be all right._

_"What are you saying?" Paul said. I turned to look at him. Disbelief clouded his features. It was obvious what my father was telling us but Paul wasn't prepared to accept it._

_"I'm saying... I'm calling it quits Paul. It's no use. I'll recover, but I'll never be able to fight like I used to. I'm sorry kids. I hope I haven't disappointed you."_

_"No, of course not! Don't worry Dad- I don't care about that. I'm just glad you're okay," I said as I hugged him carefully._

_"But you can't quit!" Paul said suddenly, standing up from where he was kneeling. Since we'd heard the news that Dad was hurt Paul was calm and collected, confident that his injuries couldn't have been too serious. But now he was shaking._

_"You'll recover. I'll help. You'll be as good as new and you won't have to quit."_

_"Paul, not now!" I told him in an admonishing tone, glancing worriedly at my father._

_"It's all right Annie," my father said, lifting up his hand to calm down both of us. "Paul, I know this might be hard to accept but it's for the best-"_

_"No, it's not for the best!" Paul cried, shaking his head. "How_ can _it be? Maxville needs you, Uncle Charles. Are you just going to let Barron Battle get away? Are you really going to just_ give up _?"_

xxxxx

Paul had idolized my father. He was crushed when my father had retired and had taken to monitoring villain activity and contacting the nearest hero in times of distress. Dad said that Paul would get over it with time but he never really did. It made me a little worried when Paul talked like that about my father, and especially about Warren.

I wondered briefly if I should tell him what I thought. In the end I decided to just come out with how I really felt about the whole thing. "Paul, to tell you the truth I'm... sort of glad Dad's out of it. You know, retired. I was really scared when I heard that he got hurt. Don't get me wrong- it was great, him helping people and protecting the city. But he almost _died_." I took a deep breath before continuing. "And I'm angry about that, I am. But I just can't help but feel better knowing that's he's home now, safe and sound."

"Oh, and I suppose you have Battle to thank for that?" Paul asked coldly, shaking his head and looking out the bus window at the clouds that swirled past.

I stared at him incredulously- why was Paul acting like this? "How on earth can you say that?" The topic of Dad/Barron Battle/ Warren Peace had always been a very sensitive one for my cousin but since that we had found that we'd have to work with Warren, Paul had been considerably more disagreeable and ill tempered. "You can't possibly think I'm happy Dad got hurt?"

Paul peered at me from the corners of his eyes. "You're happy he's inactive. And Battle made that possible."

"You know that's not what I meant! You heard what I said. I'm mad at the guy too- just because I'm not taking it out on Warren every chance I get doesn't mean I'm any less upset about the whole thing. But what's happened has happened. Nothing in the world is going to change that." I took a breath to calm myself down, even managing to put my arm round Paul's shoulders as angry as I was with him. "Paul, please don't do anything that will get us in trouble. I can't afford to mess this up. I've worked it out- if I don't get an A for this it'll bring my entire average down to a C plus. My parents will kill me if that happens."

"Don't worry about it," Paul said absently. "It'll be fine."

"But promise me you won't start anything," I insisted.

"Yeah, yeah. I promise," he said, not sounding one bit sincere.

Unlike Paul, my interest in Warren was not one of undying hatred but rather deliberate indifference. I saw no gain in doing anything to incense him- in fact, though I'd never admit it to anyone, I was sort of scared of him. Twice over the past year and a half I had to break up altercations between him and my cousin, which usually involved me narrowly escaping flames intended for Paul.

Seeing Warren at his fiercest was something I never wanted to go through again. The bulk of my passive ill feeling was mainly fixated upon his father Barron Battle who was safe in prison and who in my view was already paying for what he did to Dad. For me Warren was neither here nor there in the revenge equation. But Paul in his weird logic decided that if he couldn't get at the father he'd take it out on the son and what was more, he felt perfectly justified in doing so. Over the years I simply could not convince him to let it go.

I watched Paul concernedly as he messed around with a couple of his friends in the seats in front of us. Paul was a good person but he could sometimes be very stubborn, especially if his pride was at stake. And his quick temper easily rivaled that of Warren. That and the fact that he was the group leader could only lead to serious problems. I had to be the buffer for any possible confrontation, avoiding them all if possible. It was up to me to set the example and exhibit a tacit truce. From that point on, I made up my mind: everyone in our group was going to get along with everyone else- starting with me and my cousin.

Feeling better, I sat back. This project might not turn out so badly after all, I thought.


	3. Rivalling the Flame

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Three- Rivaling the Flame**

**  
**

The next morning I saw the girl I knew to be Jana Vega on the school bus. She was dark haired, tall, had a pierced lower lip (a stud in the shape of a pentacle) and an air of bad-ass nonchalance about her. She was listening to her CD player which was playing hard rock music that was turned up way too loudly and nodding to the beat. Without hesitation, I sat down in the empty seat next to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Jana Vega," I said, not bothering to make it sound like a question.

She snatched off her headphones and glared at me resentfully. "What do you want?" Her voice was slightly husky with a hint of aggression.

What was _her_ problem? Not allowing myself to be daunted however, I ignored her outburst. "Uh, hi. I'm Anna Arrian. We're in Hero History class together. You're in our group for a project we have to do. It's due in about three weeks."

"Oh. Fine." She put her headphones back on and carried on nodding as if I wasn't there.

Silently I counted to three. Then I tapped her shoulder again, waiting with a forced patience for her to take the headphones off... _again_.

" _Yes_?"

I gave her a sharp look before saying in a tense voice, "I also thought you should know- we're having our first meeting in the Study Hall right after school. It'll be me, Paul Findle and Warren Peace."

For the first time, Jana finally seemed to be paying attention. "Findle _and_ Peace? Working in the _same_ group?" She exhaled slowly. "That's a death match waiting to happen. No way, I'm out of it. I'm going to Mr. Mnemonic and-"

"No dice. We already went to him. He said the placing was final and whatever issues we have, we're going to have deal with it ourselves."

Jana sighed irritably. "Damn. Fine, whatever. But if one of them kills the other I am not going to be a trial witness. Now do you mind?" With that, Jana put her headphones back on and didn't speak to me, or acknowledge my presence in any way for the rest of the journey.

I stared at her incredulously for a moment, intense dislike straining against my resolve to be at least civil to my fellow group members. With some effort I decided to just dismiss it as everything about Jana suggested an attitude with the world in general. Humming an incoherent tune, I dutifully ignored her as she did me and thought about what would happen at the meeting.

xxxxxx

Looking back on it, I should have known better. I was naive to think it would be otherwise.

Needless to say, the first group meeting didn't go very well nor did the others that followed. Warren and Paul constantly bickered about the outline of the presentation, the various facts about the Maxville Hero time line, who should research what and in short, anything else they could think of.

Despite giving a deliberate and fervent impression of not caring much about school or grades, it turned out that they were both obsessive perfectionists who each thought that their way was absolutely right and the other's therefore was dead wrong. Hardly a moment went by when they weren't arguing about something or other and I always had to break it up.

In addition I quickly realized that Jana was not going to be much help in anything. She always arrived late for classes and our meetings (if she came at all), and rarely gave any input. In fact she just sat there, looking on in mild interest as my cousin and Warren waged their own little World War about yet another trivial matter.

But it swiftly went downhill on Friday when we were considering suitable examples for 'Super Heroes and the Villains They Regularly Encounter' in an empty classroom. Jana was nowhere to be found which was no surprise; we had all gotten used to her occasional attendance at this point.

"'Today's Commander and Jetstream are formidable Heroes- champions of the people, who have brought more villains to justice than any other hero in the history of Maxville,'" he read from our work in progress, which he was typing.

I could immediately see where this was going and I flashed a meaningful glance at Paul, but he was oblivious to it (or maybe he just wanted to be).

"'Many of these major villains would have caused irreparable devastation and mayhem to our city were it not for our great Heroes. Such villains include The Wing, Hackman, and Barron Ba'- ow!"

I had kicked Paul under the table seeing Warren's face darken. "Um Paul, maybe we should take a break," I said with a look tinged with warning.

"We're keeping my father out of this project," Warren said in a low and dangerous tone.

"No problem. Two villains are enough anyway, right Paul?" I said with a nervous chuckle.

"Why should we?" Paul said, ignoring me completely. "Barron Battle was one of the biggest villains in Maxville. It'd be stupid to leave him out of it."

"Paul, please don't. Really, we don't need to include him," I said urgently. Why couldn't he just end it? Battle, though a good example wasn't that incredibly essential. But my cousin was always insistent on having his way.

"I wasn't _asking_ you Findle," Warren said, scowling at Paul. "My dad stays out of it."

"Well I'm the leader of the group," Paul said in a slow and deliberate manner. "And I say he's in."

As far as I knew, Warren had never backed down from anything, least of all a challenge. "I bet you he won't be," he said, standing up at once. He didn't take his gaze away from Paul for a moment.

"Oh, I bet you he will," Paul said nastily, getting to his feet as well. His whole body had tensed, ready for whatever was coming.

"Both of you, that's enough. I mean it," I kept my voice firm, but neither of them paid any attention.

"It's not going to happen," Warren whispered menacingly.

"Too bad- it is. Sorry." Paul didn't sound sorry at all. "Besides, it's not my fault that your dad went all evil and-"

It happened in a flash. Paul was pitched through the classroom door in a burst of flame. Warren stormed after him, his dark eyes (and hands) ablaze.

Gasping in surprise, I shot to my feet and dashed into the hall to stop them before anything else could happen. Too late. Paul, half of his shirt burned to nothingness and the remains smoldering at the edges, had powered up instantly.

He changed... and became a fanged creature. A vast gray wingspan burst suddenly from his back as he glared fiercely at Warren with bright silver eyes. His skin had become gray as well, looking deathly in the cold sunlight that streamed from the nearby windows. With a low unearthly snarl, he lunged at Warren.

They crashed into the nearby lockers, reducing them into twisted unrecognizable pieces of metal. Horrified, I rushed behind them, trying to deny what I was seeing and failing.

"Paul, _no_!" I cried out. "Stop it Warren!"

But they didn't listen. Warren, his face a mask of wild fury, hurled a fireball that nearly took Paul's arm off. Paul dodged it just in time and took to the air, fixing a terrible gaze upon Warren. He tackled him and landed a punch that temporarily stunned Warren. They charged each other again violently, and too closely it turned out- I had to dive out of the way and landed hard on my shoulder.

The exploding pain, the prospect of failing the project I'd already put so much work into and the nerve-wracking experience of their constant bickering sent me into a rage I didn't know I possessed.

" _ENOUGH_!" I shrieked, getting angrily to my feet. Thrusting my hands outward, a burst of dazzling tangible light shot out from both palms and enveloped Paul and Warren. In a flash I mentally fashioned my power into brilliant cords, pinning their arms to their sides. The two were immediately drawn apart as I spread my arms wide and raised them over my head (with some difficulty as my shoulder was now very sore). Gently, the two figures lifted off the ground.

They say that my eyes turn white when I power up. Not milky white like many super beings, but pure white light. In any case all I saw at the moment was the blazing red of my own anger.

Paul and Warren struggled for a moment in midair, trying to break free from the bright force that bound them but only for a moment. I quickly realized that the hallway, previously buzzing with jeering and taunts from the onlooking students had gone suddenly silent. I knew what was going on. Which was why I was not surprised when a voice behind me said firmly, "That's enough Anna. Put them down."

Catching my breath and coming to my senses, I immediately complied. Returning to normal, I said, "It isn't what it looks like, Principal Powers. I was only trying to-"

Principal Powers gave me a kind, but somewhat dry look. "I know. All three of you, come with me."


	4. A Friend to One, an Enemy to All

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Four- A Friend to One, an Enemy to All**

**  
**

I thought we were going to the Detention Room, but it was much worse- she led us straight to... The Office.

My heart was pounding. _Oh god_ , I thought, _that's it. I'm going to fail the project, and Hero History, and I'll have to repeat it. It's over. We're finished before we've even begun._

"Have a seat," she told us, gesturing to the seats.

As soon as we sat down Principal Powers had Warren, then Paul, and finally me, tell our respective versions of what had happened. In the end I had to admit that Paul had in fact provoked Warren which started the whole thing. Paul shot me a pained look that made me turn away guiltily. I felt bad saying what I did but it was the truth. Besides, Paul had promised he'd behave. He promised.

"I'll have a talk with Mr. Mnemonic," Principal Powers told us. "He will have to decide what to do as things clearly cannot continue like this. In the meantime... Paul, Warren- I will have to call your parents and inform them of what happened. Till then, I think it'd be best if you two would have a seat in the Detention Room. Anna, you may go to class."

We got up. I carefully avoided Paul's gaze as we left and tried to make a break for it to my classroom, but he wouldn't let me. As soon as we were a little way from the Principal's office, Paul started in. "I can't believe you!" He was almost screaming, which unnerved me more than anything.

"What?!" I tried to keep a straight face but I knew. I didn't care though. Things had gone far enough and I wasn't going to let him ruin things for me, all because of his pride.

"You always take his side, ever since we started this stupid project!" he said, jerking a finger in Warren's direction.

"That is not true!" I said, my face flooding with enraged embarrassment. What was he thinking, yelling at me in front of a third party as if I were a kid? I glanced over at Warren- he was scowling darkly at Paul.

"I only told her what happened," I said. "I wasn't trying to get you in trouble. Don't pin this on me!"

"It wasn't about taking sides. You were wrong - end of story."

Warren had said it. Each word had an edge to it as if he were trying to cut into Paul as deeply as he could, trying to set him off as Paul did him.

Paul rounded on Warren furiously. I thought for a moment that my cousin would attack him- Paul's eyes flashed silver and he snarled, revealing his fangs. I stepped forward, ready to stop him if I had to. But he closed his mouth almost immediately and, glaring at me, stomped off to the Detention Room.

Warren and I stared after him for a few seconds. I suddenly felt very tired. My right shoulder throbbed with pain. Feeling uncomfortable in the silence, I found myself mumbling, "Look, I... I'm sorry about...you know...Paul... and the levitation, and...well, everything." I wasn't sure why I said it. I just felt that it had to be said.

Warren however, wasn't prepared to accept this. He looked sideways at me with an almost defiant expression, as if he thought I was trying to be funny.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"Right, like you're not as pissed off at me as Findle is," he said, his voice filled with sarcasm.

"Oh believe me, I am," I said, allowing myself to tell him face to face exactly how I felt for the first time. "You guys couldn't last one week without being at each other's throats, literally. And now look what's happened! If Mr. Mnemonic doesn't give us all an instant 'F', I'll be surprised. "

Warren, narrowing his eyes indignantly at me, began, "Hey, your cousin's the one who-"

"I know what he did!" I snapped. When I spoke again, my voice was much calmer. "And I'm sorry about that. But you played a part in this too." I sighed heavily. "I gotta get to class. And you obviously have somewhere to be," I said, nodding toward the corridor that led to the Detention Room.

Warren glanced upwards for a second before looking back at the floor and shaking his head. "Whatever," he said and walked off without another word or glance back. I did the same, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder.

It was the weekend so a couple of days went by before I saw Warren or Paul again. But during that time I thought about them both: Paul, with a sharp pang of guilt; Warren, with a new and rather surprising doubt.

When my dad found out about the fight, he was livid- but not with me. He was furious at Mr. Mnemonic for putting Paul and me to work with Warren. He almost called Principal Powers, but I stopped him.

"Listen, it's okay! Things got out of hand but it's settled now." I was glad they didn't know I got hurt from the fight. My right shoulder was really stiff now and it to move it, but I wasn't about to tell them that. They'd go straight to Sky High themselves for sure come Monday. That would be too humiliating for words.

"The hell it is. I'm not having you or Paul anywhere near him," my father snapped.

"Dad, I thought we were past that. Barron Battle's in jail."

"That doesn't mean you have to go fraternizing with his son."

"But I'm not! It's just a project. I'll only be seeing him for a few hours a week. I can't mess this up, Dad. I need this grade."

"Don't you worry about that. I won't let them fail you and I'm certainly not going to let them make you or Paul work with Battle's kid! I can't believe that Frank would even think of doing something like this. I thought he knew better! I'm going to have a talk with him _and_ the Principal," my father said, rising from the couch where he was sitting. But Mom pulled him back down.

"Charles," my mother admonished quietly, then turned to me. "Anna, you know better than anyone how sensitive this situation is. Are you absolutely sure you can handle this?"

I hesitated for a second and only a second. "Yes, I can." I had to. There was really no choice in the matter. My father was ridiculously steadfast in his decisions but so was Mr. Mnemonic. It wouldn't have been pretty seeing them go head to head.

"Diane," my father began, but my mother stopped him.

"She has to learn Charles," she told him. "If she doesn't face this now, then when?"

xxxxxx

Warren Peace was in the face of all logic, someone I should have dismissed as a by-product of an evil villain as well as being my cousin's sworn enemy. But up until the incident with Paul he had been taking his position in our group very seriously, even conscientiously, considering who the members (and the group leader) were.

And now Paul had fought with him after provoking him repeatedly over the past few days. Paul was right- it was becoming difficult to become completely on his side now. And he wasn't helping the matter.

I couldn't admit that to him though.

When Monday rolled around I dreaded going back to Sky High. On the bus I wondered what would happen. Mr. Mnemonic would have obviously heard about the fight by now and like Principal Powers had said, things couldn't stay as they were.

I saw Paul in the hallway and called out to him.

"Hey Paul! Hey!"

Paul glanced at me for a split second and turning pointedly, walked away. But I wasn't giving up so easily. I ran to catch up with him and grabbed his arm, which he instantly yanked away.

"Leave me alone," he snapped.

"Come on Paul, don't be like that."

"Because of you, I'm grounded for a month!" he said sharply. "All you had to do was stick up for me and you couldn't even do that!"

"But you started it, Paul! What did you want me to do, lie to Principal Powers? Tell her it was Warren's fault?"

"But it was! He threw the first hit," Paul hissed between clenched teeth.

Feeling suddenly angry, I just gave up. "Whatever. You know what? I'm done feeling sorry for you. You shouldn't have started in on his dad so whatever he did to you, you were asking for it." I turned around and began to leave when I heard him whisper it:

"You _traitor_."

I stopped for a second, but I didn't turn around. I continued walking, his words stinging afresh with every passing moment.

Once in Hero History class I ignored Jana Vega (who did the same), and went straight to Warren. He was reading one of his textbooks, his hair falling over his face. He didn't seem to notice me at first. I coughed a couple of times. Not looking up he said, "What, Arrian?"

"I just wondered if you heard anything from Mr. Mnemonic or Principal Powers, about...well, you know."

"No. Though I sure heard a lot when I got home." He sighed reflectively, shaking his head. Finally he looked up at me. "Why don't you ask Vamp Boy?"

I didn't reply to that but Warren, seeing the look on my face put two and two together. "So, trouble in the family, huh?"

"No," I lied, a little defensively. "I'm just...giving him his space."

"Sure."

Mr. Mnemonic came into the classroom then with Paul following behind, staring daggers at us. I glanced back at Warren- he raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'Well, here it comes.'

"Will everyone quickly take their seats? Thank you. Before we begin, will the members of Group Two see me after class?"

Jana raised her hand.

"Yes that means you too, Jana," he said, rolling his eyes.

She instantly put it down.

After the class Mr. Mnemonic told us to pull up the chairs in the front row and have a seat, which we did. He leaned against the front desk and didn't say anything for a minute. Then:

"Well. As I'm sure you know by now, Principal Powers has informed me of the incident that occurred on Friday."

We didn't answer. Paul was frowning at the world in general; Jana looked vaguely non-plussed at the whole thing (she probably knew little about the fight, since she didn't bother to show up that day); Warren folded his arms and stared at his desk in mild boredom; I kept my eyes on Mr. Mnemonic's briefcase, gazing at it sadly.

"I must say that I am extremely disappointed in all of you. Anna, being the sensible one I know you are, I'd hoped that you would have come to me before things escalated to this degree."

I could not believe what I was hearing. "But you said that-"

"I said that you would have to work out your issues, yes. But if things were getting out of hand and hindering progress on your project to such an extent, then you could have at least told me about it."

I exhaled indignantly but said nothing.

Mr. Mnemonic continued, "Warren, this is the second time this term that you've been in a fight. You cannot afford to do that again. As tempting as it is to settle your disputes by incinerating the other party there are better, more effective ways to deal with them. I hope I don't hear about you fighting again."

Warren didn't answer. He threw a look in Paul's general direction with an expression which suggested he hadn't particularly considered incinerating Paul before, but the prospect was very attractive now that he had. I felt worried.

"Paul, I placed you in this group with Warren for a reason. I'd hoped, maybe foolishly, that you'd be responsible and get the work done with no major mishaps. And now considering what you both have done, I don't have any other choice but to appoint Miss Arrian as the group leader. She will act as the neutral party and as mediator should any further conflict occur. Is that understood?"

I started at this and said, "But I don't want to be in charge!" at the same time Warren said, "That isn't going to help anything!"

But Mr. Mnemonic was in a bad mood. "I said... is that understood?"

I muttered, "Yes sir." The other two just nodded sullenly. Jana didn't even acknowledge the whole exchange. She simply stared into space.

"Paul," he went on, "you're a smart young man. You can see the bigger picture can't you? Are you really going to sacrifice thirty-five percent of your final grade over pointless misplaced resentment? Paul, are you listening to me?"

I flinched when I heard his words. Silently I prayed that Paul would keep his cool and not do or say anything that would ruin himself.

His hand was gripping the underside of the desk which was attached to his chair- I heard the low groan of the solid metal as it bent easily beneath his fingers. I tensed, waiting for it. But Paul didn't do anything. Instead, he looked up with an unreadable expression.

"Yes sir. Of course sir," he said.

It was obvious that he was struggling to keep his voice level and I thought that Mr. Mnemonic noticed it too. He watched Paul carefully for a moment more, then finally turned to Jana.

"Jana Vega," he said, shaking his head. "What _are_ we going to do with you?"

"Excuse me?" she said, having the nerve to look affronted.

"You haven't been pulling your weight in this project," he said, being more patient than I would have been. "Not attending meetings or giving input-"

Jana scoffed then looked at me in an accusing manner. I glared back at her just as strongly, even though I wasn't the one who had snitched.

"Now I'm serious Jana. If I find out that you're still not getting involved in the project, I'm going to have to give you an 'F'. Yes, just you. Now that's all. I hope I don't have to sit you all down again."

We left the class to go to lunch- separately. I usually ate with Paul but since he wasn't talking to me at the moment, I was on my own.

"Ow- hey!" I said angrily as Jana bumped into my hurt shoulder on the way to the lunchroom.

"Sorry. Didn't see you," she said in a cold voice as she walked past.

Rubbing my arm gingerly, I stared after her. She was really starting to get on my nerves. But I forced myself to dismiss it as a new thought came to me.

"Hey, you guys!"

The three of them turned around, each looking at me in varying degrees of sullenness.

"Uh..." I faltered.

"Yes?" Jana snapped.

"Um...group meeting! Yeah, at...ah...tomorrow. Five'o clock!" I said somewhat triumphantly after a few seconds of panicked deliberation.

"No can do. Guitar lesson," Jana said smugly.

"Save the Citizen practice," Paul reminded me.

"Work," Warren explained.

"Oh. Well, we'll just..." I tried to think of another time but without much enthusiasm.

"So we'll have it today," Warren suggested after a couple of moments of silence. "In the library. Three 'o clock."

"I have a meeting with a teacher," Jana countered smoothly.

"Then four 'o clock," Warren said insistently, giving her a look that thickened the very air.

"Okay, okay," Jana said resignedly.

Paul simply nodded, not looking at him or at me for that matter.

Turning to back to me, Warren said in a listless voice, "All right with you, Arrian?"

"Yeah. Well, see you guys later."

The three of them muttered something along the lines of "Right, whatever," and left.

_Good to see you're all looking forward to it,_ I thought sarcastically as I trailed behind.

Once I was settled at a table I started on my fruit salad, still thinking about the project. Things certainly had not started off well. But now here we were with a chance to start over, sort of. I only hoped that we didn't blow it. Again.

A couple of tables ahead of me Paul was talking and joking with a bunch of senior heroes-in-training, taking great care to show me how much fun he was having without his traitorous cousin. Well, fine. I didn't need him anyway.

Oh, who was I kidding? I missed him already.

I heard Jana laughing from across the lunchroom with her 'rocker crowd', as I referred to them. She was showing them something from an old-looking book, pointing at one of the pages and snickering. I promised myself I wouldn't let her get a rise out of me. I simply wrote her off as a first-rate jackass.

Not too far away from her little clique was Warren sitting at an empty table, quietly having his lunch. He didn't have to, but it was nice of him to help me arrange a meeting time for all of us. Truly, no one else had even tried.

Suddenly he paused and turned, looking straight at me. I jumped and quickly looked down at my half-eaten fruit bowl. I grabbed my fork and stabbed a piece of apple, perhaps too enthusiastically- the fork snapped neatly in half.


	5. Easy Come, Easy Go

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Five- Easy Come, Easy Go**

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**

Three entire days had passed and Paul still wouldn't talk to me. During our group meetings, he used Jana as a medium to communicate anything to me and she'd relay any message in the nastiest way she could. Warren for the most part ignored us all and got on with as much work as possible without having anything to do with the group. I couldn't blame him.

Finally tired of Paul's cold shoulder, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I knew he was being a jerk but someone had to break the ice.

"Hello?"

"Paul it's Anna, please don't hang up," I said in a rush before he could do it again for the third time.

With an aggravated sigh he said, "What do you want?"

"Look, I'm sorry for what happened okay? I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

The truth was, I wasn't sorry at all for what I did (or said). But I was willing to say anything to make amends. Paul was more stubborn than anything and very rarely admitted he was in the wrong so it was up to me to apologize. It usually was whenever we had a fight.

"Paul, are you still there?"

"Yeah I'm here."

"So... are we cool?"

I listened to about five seconds of dead air before hearing Paul's voice say, "See you tomorrow," then the click of the line as he hung up.

It was pretty much his way of saying that he forgave me.

xxxxx

The next day I saw Paul at his locker chatting up Lisa Kline, a pretty telekinetic girl he'd been crushing on for two months solid which for Paul, was a record. He grinned at her in that secret knowing way (which he thought was cute), as he whispered in her ear. Lisa laughed.

"Hi Paul!" I said cheerfully.

He shot me a look which clearly said that now was not a good time to play best friends and to stay away from him. He got his wish.

But not for long. I counted quietly backwards from ten. As soon as I hit one, the bell rang. It was time for class. Paul hadn't budged. Neither had Lisa. There was nothing for it. I had to go over there.

"Hi Lisa," I said warmly.

"Hey Anna," Lisa said, snapping out of her reverie.

"How's your Remedial going?"

"Um, great."

"Glad to hear it! Well Paul and I should be going. We don't want to be late for class."

"Right, right. See you later Paul."

As Lisa walked away I said to Paul before he could open his mouth, "It's time for class."

"I _know_ how to get to class."

"Yeah but when? Aren't you tired of being late?" I pointed out as I slipped my arm into his and pulled him along. He grumbled but didn't object.

We sat next to one another as Mr. Medulla droned on about the main reasons why most villains want to take over the world and the top ten proponents of this objective.

Paul barely listened. He doodled dirty pictures with funny captions in the back of his notebook then passed it over to me. I suppressed my laughter by sticking the cuff of my sweater into my mouth. Mr. Medulla was on a roll, delving into the obsessive psyche of the typical villain- so much so that he didn't notice us. In any case it was the one class that Paul and I pulled straight A's in.

After Mad Science Paul and I were making our way to Hero History. Suddenly he stopped, and said, "Oh, I almost forgot-I have to see Mrs. Maticas about my extra credit paper. Save me a seat."

"Okay."

I got to class, which was nearly empty and chose a couple of seats there. I put my backpack on the seat next to me and began going over the notes I'd made yesterday. A few moments later someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around.

"This is yours. I accidentally took it at the last meeting. Didn't realize until I got home," Warren said, handing me my _Super Heroes: A Super History_ text book.

I was a little startled to see him sitting there. He must have walked right by me, but I never saw him come in. "Oh...wow. Didn't even realize it was missing. Thanks," I said, taking it.

"Uh yeah, listen. I'm not going to be able to come to the meeting this afternoon. I gotta work early today."

"Oh. Well that's fine." I said. "We'll just fill you in on what we did at the next meeting, tomorrow. It'll be at the computer room- three o' clock."

"I'll be there," he promised.

More students began filing in. I began to wonder where Jana was. She usually came to class early to secure her seat in the far back which was always coveted by the general slackers. I hoped she would show up at the meeting. We still had a lot of work to cover for the day and with Warren unable to attend, we needed all the help we could get.

"Hey, have you seen Jana?" I asked Warren. "I don't think she was in Mad Science today."

"She's in school, that's all I know. Saw her in the hall with some girl- think she's telekinetic or something-"

My brow furrowed. "Lisa? Lisa Kline?"

"Yeah I think so."

"I just saw her a little while ago. Didn't see Jana though," I said thoughtfully. And since when did Jana start hanging out with _Lisa_ , of all people? Lisa was so squeaky clean and Jana...well, wasn't.

Warren just shrugged.

"Just a feeling, but I don't think she's coming," I said. "If you see her-"

"I'll tell her about the meeting and make sure she gets there," he assured me.

"Thanks." As I turned back around I saw Paul standing by the door, staring at me. His face was impassive but his eyes were...strange, as if he were looking at me for the first time and didn't quite like what he was seeing.

xxxxx

Paul, Jana and I congregated in an empty classroom after school- there was a class being held in the library. Paul had been pretty quiet since Hero History. He didn't seem upset with me- he laughed at my little jokes but didn't have much to say at lunch.

We reviewed the top five international heroes and villains in the past fifty years. It turned out that my great-aunt in-law (Paul's grandmother on his mother's side), was one of the heroes- Crystanet the Invincible. I never knew her very well, but Paul did. She had died about six years ago and was buried in the _Pere-Lachaise_ cemetary in Paris, France. Paul told me with a hint of pride that she was one of the greatest heroes who ever lived.

"This is so boring," Jana moaned. "Look, I made the notes for the Legacies of Villains. Can't I just go?"

"No," I told her with a sigh. "We're already one short."

"Why isn't Warren here anyway? How come he gets to miss this?"

"Because he has a good excuse," I said sharply. "Can we get back to work now?"

Jana glared at me. "Don't think you can boss me around, Anna."

"Just stop it Jana," Paul said softly but his tone was unmistakable.

Jana glanced at Paul in surprise, but to my amazement said nothing else. We finished up the conquests of Heroes past and present and then called it quits a couple of hours later.

When Jana left Paul said, "What was that all about?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know how Jana is with me."

"That's not what I meant."

It was the way that he said it that made me stop and look at him. His entire stance suggested discomfort, but my cousin was steadfast, stubborn; unmoving in the path he'd taken and intending to see it through no matter what. It was Paul's way.

"What is this? What's wrong _now_?" I asked levelly, but there was a trace of irritation in my voice.

"I didn't say anything was wrong. I just want to know why you were chatting him up."

"I wasn't chatting him up!" I said. "Gosh, what is wrong with you? He was returning my text book okay? He took it home by accident."

Paul gave me a cynical look. "Right, accident. Wouldn't be so sure about that."

"So what do you think he did, stole my book so he could stick a tracking device in the binder? Do you realize how stupid this conversation is?"

"I'm not the one being stupid," Paul said heatedly. "You're the one who's being blatantly naive, getting friendly with family enemies!"

"Oh, so what?" I was almost shouting. "So I talked to him for a few minutes. I'm the group leader now- I think I'm going to have to, at _some_ point."

"Don't get smart with me," Paul said, too seriously. "You can't trust him, Anna. You know who his father is and what he did to Uncle Charles-"

I shook my head, getting more exasperated with him by the minute but Paul wasn't done. "Anna I know you feel you have to get along with everybody but Warren is...someone you should stay away from. I'm telling you this for your own good."

"That's not fair! You don't _know_ him."

"You don't know him either," Paul argued. "But you know what he's capable of."

"What he's capable of?" I stared at him, not believing what I was hearing. "No Paul, I don't. And neither do you."

"Oh, speak for yourself. The guy attacked me- he's insane!"

"He attacked you because _you_ wouldn't leave him alone," I pointed out. "Warren might be a lot of things- but he hasn't done a single thing to make any of us think he's some kind of ... villain!"

"Is that what you honestly think?" he said angrily.

This was ridiculous. We had just made up. I refused to get into another fight with him. "Look, let's just drop this, okay?" I said as calmly as I could. "It doesn't matter- he just gave me my textbook back and we talked about the next meeting, and that's it. Please just end it ok?"

Paul looked up at the ceiling quietly for a while. He did not look happy. Then he slung his backpack over his shoulder and said, "Let's go home." He walked past me, not looking at me and I followed him.

We said nothing on the bus and when Paul and I parted ways to go to our respective homes, I wondered if we would ever stop disagreeing as long as we had to do this project. My cousin had an obstinately proud streak and we occasionally had our spats, but never before had I seen Paul so viciously adamant, so...disturbed.


	6. Things Forgotten

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Six- Things Forgotten**

**  
**

As I made my way home, I thought about Paul and what he'd said. He must have known perfectly well that any contact with Warren on my part was strictly work-related. He was being completely stupid and I knew it.

That was as far as my musings went however because as soon as I came through the door, my mother greeted me with a request.

"Anna honey, could you go to the store and buy me some flour and eggs? I've run out," she said breathlessly, wiping her hands on a cloth. My mother didn't have any powers, but she was far from ordinary. Taking care of a family of super heroes was no easy task.

"Mom, I just got home," I whined. "Can't Dad go with the car?"

"He's out and don't argue with me," Mom said firmly, pushing some money into my hand. "Now go on. Flour and eggs, don't forget."

Tossing my bag in the corner, I thrust the money into my pocket and stomped back out the door. I usually didn't complain about running errands for my mom but today wasn't one of my best days. I felt mutinous.

It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair. I bet the other groups weren't having these kinds of problems, I thought miserably as I picked up a bag of flour and then went to get the eggs. _It's only a project_ , I answered myself, which I often did. _Just get the work done and let everyone go their separate ways._ No, I thought, I can't have things happening like this. It'll hurt the project if we can't at least be civil to one another.

_Everything must be run exactly the way you want it to. Nothing is perfect but you won't accept that. You can't control people any more than you can control the world. You can't arrange Paul, Warren, and Jana like dolls and make them play nice. Paul and Warren will always hate one another and Jana will always hate you. Leave it alone-_

My thoughts were interrupted as I turned the corner to go into the next aisle and crashed into a cart. I dropped the basket I was carrying the eggs in. The carton fell open, most of the eggs breaking on the floor as well as on my shoes which were practically new.

"Oh, damn it!" I said angrily, staring at the mess.

"Would you watch where you're- Arrian?"

I looked up sharply from my shoes at the owner of the cart. It was Warren. His hair was pulled back from his face into a ponytail and his clothes were rather worn. He looked tired.

"Warren? I thought you said that you had to work." I couldn't help but ask. The question came out more accusing than I intended.

"I did and I am," he said defensively.

"You work at the grocery store?" I asked, confused.

"Uh... no," he said in a tone of voice that hinted at indignation. "Not that it's any of your business but I'm here to pick up a few things," he said, gesturing to his cart. It contained a few bottles of soy sauce, some packs of napkins and a few other things.

"Oh. Right, sorry." I didn't know what else to say.

"You might want to clean that up," Warren said, ignoring this, as he pointed to my egg-yolk covered shoes.

I winced, disgusted. "Ugh..." Glancing around to make sure I wasn't being watched, I put my left hand over my shoes. For a brief moment white light engulfed my feet- when I withdrew my hand my shoes were clean again, the egg yolk and shells now in a messy puddle on the floor. Furtively, I nudged the carton underneath the nearest shelf.

"Convenient," he remarked dryly.

"We should move," I said, looking around nervously.

Warren didn't reply, but gave me a weird look and turned into the aisle I'd just left. I followed him to get more eggs.

"So," I said, in an attempt to break the silence that followed as I picked up another carton.

"So..." Warren echoed in a bored voice. He was scanning the shelves and glancing down at a piece of paper in his hand which contained a rather long shopping list.

"Well we got a lot done today," I said. "In the group, I mean."

"Yeah?" he said absently as he examined a jar of dry mustard.

"Yes. We did international heroes and their innovative crime-fighting strategies," I told him as we walked along. "I even found out that Crystanet, my great aunt-in-law, was one of them. She defended the greater part of France."

Warren paused for a moment and glanced at me. "Crystanet the Invincible? I know about her. My mother told me that she once single-handedly saved an entire city from an army of death-laser wielding robots. Crystanet was one of her idols."

"Really? Huh, the laser-wielding robots is new to me. I don't remember hearing about Paris ever being attacked by a robot army though."

"Not Paris. Bordeaux, in the spring of 1961."

I gave him a curious look. "How do you know all this?"

"I told you. My mom idolized Crystanet. She'd always tell me stories about her. From what I've heard, she was one of the greatest Heroes in history. "

"She really was," I agreed. We were in the produce section and Warren picked up a few bunches of bok choy. Automatically I pulled a clear plastic bag off the roll and held it

open as he put them into it. "So what's all this- are you throwing a party or something?"

"No, not exactly," he answered reluctantly. "My boss is having a special dinner for a few of his relatives tomorrow night. So he sent me for some things."

"A dinner party- that's nice."

"Yeah, very exciting," he answered unenthusiastically as he took half a dozen onions and put them into another plastic bag I'd opened.

I rolled my eyes. "What exactly do you _do_ , anyway? I mean other than the obvious errand-running."

We went through the aisles, Warren placing various things in the cart as he filled me in on his job, which took all of five seconds. Eventually the conversation turned to what we would work on and bring for tomorrow's group meeting.

"Did you finish the bar graph for classic Villain schemes?" he asked.

"More or less. I just need to do some finishing touch-ups that should only take a few minutes. We'll also need a time line for Captured Villains. You should make that," I said and immediately bit my tongue, remembering his father. "I mean, because you're good with dates," I added, trying to move the conversation along quickly.

"Well, so are you. I saw the part you did for Hero Activity During the Villain Revolution of the 1900s, " Warren replied matter of factly, not seeming to notice.

"Oh, that was a fluke," I said dismissively. "Hero History is my worst subject."

"That's because you're never paying attention," he said reproachfully. "You're always joking around with Findle instead of listening in class."

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. I hated to admit it but he was right. Paul and I were usually so absorbed in our own little world that I rarely heard what Mr. Mnemonic was saying. Still, I was offended at hearing it from someone else.

"Well, I think that's all of it," I muttered, subdued as I tossed a box of cornstarch into his cart. I suddenly wanted to go home. Immediately.

"Yeah it is," he said, double-checking his list, oblivious to the sudden change in mood.

"I'll be going to the express line now seeing as..." I trailed off, lifting up my basket.

"Right."

"Goodbye," I said shortly and walked away.

"Arrian," he said with a suddenness that made me turn around quickly.

"What?"

He stared at his cart for some moments before looking at me at length, saying, "Thanks for filling me in on the group work and helping me out with this stuff."

I shrugged. "Don't mention it."

"Trust me, you don't have to worry about that," he muttered, in his element once again as he turned his cart and made his way to the nearest line.

xxxxxxxx

"I'm telling you, Asteroid Man was Meteor Freak's successor," Paul said with solid conviction.

"You're wrong," Jana answered coolly. "Asteroid Man was the Star Lord's apprentice. Any idiot knows that."

Warren sighed impatiently at the two. Paul gave him a nasty look and I said quickly, "Just hold on. Jana where's the textbook? All right, give me a minute..."

I quickly flipped through the pages and found the chapter on Astro/Alien Heroes. "Powers from a meteor...Astro Girl...hmm...okay. It turns out you're both right. See, Asteroid Man was the Star Lord's apprentice, but when the Star Lord was killed by the Void Master, Asteroid Man returned to his home planet and succeeded Meteor Freak. So end it."

"We could focus on both points and elaborate on them," Warren offered quietly.

"I'm all for that," I said encouragingly, amidst a general murmur of detached assent.

Paul took the text and searched the index. "There's not much on either of them in here. I'll check the catalog, and see if I can find something." He got up and went over to the computers to begin searching.

The rest of us worked on for a while without incident. Looking over at Jana who was sitting next to me, I saw her making some half-hearted notes. Upon closer inspection of her paper I realized that something was wrong.

"Jana, that's not correct. Hackman didn't assimilate himself into the Internet until 2001. And he's no longer incarcerated. That book's outdated."

She closed it with a loud snap and turned a deadly eye on me. "Fine," she said abruptly. She got up and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

"To get an updated version of the text, _Mom_ ," she said sarcastically, before disappearing among the shelves.

"What is her problem?" I said huffily, snatching a pen off of the table.

"You are," Warren said absently as he looked down at his open notebook. He turned a page, staring at it intently.

I blinked at him from across the table. "What?"

Warren exhaled slowly and finally looked up at me with a berating expression. "Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?" I was getting tired of this.

"Shh!" Mrs. Libberman the school librarian admonished me, giving us both an annoyed look.

"Sorry," I whispered to her.

Warren waited until her back was turned before saying in a hushed tone, "You're unbelievable, you know that? You completely destroyed her in the Save the Citizen final last term. She was always bragging about how she could take anyone and then you knock her unconscious and save the citizen in seven seconds flat."

I put my hands to my mouth in shock as I remembered. "Oh my god," I breathed, "That was _her_? I completely forgot about that."

How could I have? It was my best score in Save the Citizen ever. Jana had been partnered with Turner Fields, (a timid and rather ineffectual flier) as villains. To make matters worse he was scared stiff of my partner Greer Francis, whose skin was stronger than titanium and who'd incidentally threatened to beat him to a pulp that very afternoon. Jana, whose unnerving power was rendering people temporarily dead with a single touch among other necromancing abilities, didn't stand a chance.

"I wouldn't feel too bad. You have to admit, she had it coming," Warren said as he studied a complicated chart detailing the rise of villainy with technological advancement.

"Still, it must have been pretty embarrassing for her," I murmured.

He looked up from the chart and gave me an incredulous look. "And now you realize this."

"Well I never thought about it before," I whispered sharply. "I didn't even remember it was her that I beat. Man, how am I going to deal with this?"

"Shhh!" Mrs. Libberman looked about ready to throw us out of there.

"Sorry, sorry," I mumbled.

"Just forget about her," Warren advised. "She's more trouble than she's worth but I'm not about to let her get credit for not doing anything. I'll handle it."

"How so?" I asked cynically, but then I saw the look on his face. "Oh no. Listen, I know Jana can be a real jerk but don't go threatening to burn a hole in her head or something, ok? The last thing we need is another…incident."

"Yeah? Anyone else doing anything about her? She doesn't care about the teachers. And it's not like you're even trying to get her involved-"

"Right, because we all know how much she listens to _me_ -"

"So like I said, I'll handle it," he said softly but firmly, as Paul returned with four textbooks.

We immediately shut up and feigned study which Paul wasn't buying.

"Here's the History of Alien Heroes," he said tonelessly, tossing the book at me. He gave us both a sour look before getting back to work.

"Thanks," I said, with a sigh.

Another book was dropped in front of me with a thud. I looked up indignantly at Jana who took her seat and began flipping though one of Paul's books.

"Thought you'd want to make sure it was updated," she said nastily, not looking at me.

I threw Jana a look that Paul once referred to as my 'Evil Glare of Death'. Somehow, I got through the next two hours without throttling her on the spot.


	7. Changes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Seven- Changes**

**  
**

"Anna?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"Uncle Matthew, Aunt Nia and Paul are here. Paul wants to see you."

Surprised but happy, I leapt off my bed and ran downstairs. I thought, Paul's seen the error of his ways and wants to apologize and be friends again. Well it took him long enough.

It was Saturday and we were throwing a barbecue to celebrate Mom's birthday. Nearly all of the family were there- most of my aunts, uncles, cousins- even Grandma Giselle and Grandpa Frederick, Mom's parents. Some of my younger cousins were making a huge racket in the backyard amidst the blaring music of The Doors- the noise came filtering through my window along the smell of something burning. I'd gone up to my room to do some homework till the party officially started when Dad came in.

"Dad, I think the patties are done," I told him as I put on my slippers.

"Oh!" he exclaimed in dismay, before rushing back to the grill.

When I got downstairs I dutifully greeted my aunt and uncle, asking how they were in a loud voice as I tried to be heard over the music. Paul was in the living room. He was watching cartoons till he saw me. Then he switched off the television and walked over to me.

"Hey," he said casually, taking a cup of soda off of the tray that Great-Aunt Darice was carrying around.

"Hey," I echoed, watching him carefully.

"I made some notes on the conquests of The Commander for the project," he said. His voice was pleasant enough, but there was something in his eyes that made me uneasy. They were too _clear_ , a little _too_ focused upon me as if he were trying to pierce my thoughts beneath the facade of a tranquil smile. It was as if all the tension between us had somehow vanished, as if it had never happened. Why was he acting like that?

"Oh... thanks. So you're not mad or anything?"

"Nah," he said softly, his eyes never leaving my own. "It's cool."

Still not convinced, I was about to say something else when my mother called me. "Anna, could you mash these potatoes? I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

"Sure Mom," I said distractedly, still looking at Paul. "Are you sure you're okay Paul?"

"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "Look, I guess I shouldn't have been so hard on you the other day. I'm just… trying to look out for you."

"Anna?" My mother called again.

"I'll talk to you later- Aunt Diane needs you." Paul still had that look in his eyes.

"Okay," I said before walking away, still confused. Was he just putting on a show because our parents were there? I didn't think so. His light heartedness seemed too genuine. But why was he suddenly acting like we'd never had an argument?

I went to help my mother, but for the rest of the celebrations I kept checking up on Paul. But he seemed all right- laughing with my dad; kissing my mother on the cheek as he handed her a bouquet of roses; taking the time to sit and chat with our older relatives. He was acting more like his usual cheerful self- before the Hero History project.

When evening approached and it grew darker, people began to leave. I sat with Paul in the back porch. The adults were all in the kitchen nearby, drinking coffee. Occasionally I heard my mother laughing with Aunt Nia.

"So want to work on the project tomorrow?" I asked.

"It's Sunday tomorrow," Paul grumbled.

"I know that. It doesn't mean we can't work."

"Fine," Paul said with a sigh. "You can come over to my house around after lunch."

"Why can't you come over here?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Because your dial-up connection takes forever. We'll get through the research faster on my computer."

"Oh fine. Your house then," I said. I smiled at him and he smiled back. I didn't know what caused the sudden turnaround in Paul, but I couldn't help but feel sort of relieved…despite my misgivings.

"Paul...we are okay aren't we? I mean really. We shouldn't let ourselves get worked up over a project. I mean it's _just_ a project. We're still cool right?"

Paul didn't reply. He just rocked back and forth in the hammock we'd hooked up two summers ago staring at the sky, his face expressionless.

"Paul?" I said softly. "You know I love you. You _do_ know that, don't you? Regardless of anything or anyone else?"

Paul looked at me if I'd just grown a second head then laughed outright. "Where'd _that_ come from? Seriously. Are you all right?"

I wondered if I was. I wasn't usually so open, so emotional. But things had become too strained lately and now Paul was being friendly again out of the blue. It was odd to say the least and part of me knew it couldn't last, but at that moment I felt as if I would have said almost anything, just to keep things the way they were.

"Yeah, I'm fine...I just wanted you to know that, that's all," I said, quite embarrassed. I looked down quickly at the bleached floorboards.

"Paul? We're leaving honey," Aunt Nia called from the kitchen.

"Well, good night," Paul said as he got up. He looked so far away as he went inside. Then he came back out and shoved me playfully. I reached out to shove him back, but he moved away too quickly. He laughed again. "Always were too slow," he teased. "See you tomorrow." Then he went back into the house.

I continued to sit there, staring at the night sky. It was very overcast- we were in for it tonight, I thought. As if on cue, loud thunder rumbled.

Ten minutes must have passed before my dad came onto the porch. "Anna come inside, it's getting late." He paused and looked at me. "Are you all right?"

I got up with a sigh, turning to him. It was the second time that night I was asked that question and already I was tired of it. "Yeah. I'm all right."

"It's getting cold out here. Your mom's making some hot chocolate. I can pour you a cup."

"No thanks. I'm just going to go to bed."

But as I lay there in my room, I found it difficult to get to sleep. My mind raced through a million different thoughts and I tried to shut them out and think of nothing. For a long time, it didn't work.

xxxxxx

"If we're using the projector it won't work."

"Why not?"

"The screen's not wide enough, genius."

"We can adjust it, smart-ass."

Paul grinned at me. I smiled, relaxing. We'd been working for three hours straight in his room without a break and it was starting to get to us. We were nearly finished with our project, having made more progress than we originally thought. There were some notes that we needed from Jana and Warren, but though Paul called Jana at her house to get them he wouldn't permit me to call Warren to do likewise. I would have protested but I decided not to cause trouble. I'd retrieve the notes from Warren tomorrow.

"I'm thirsty," he said after a while. "I'm going to go get a coke. Want one?"

"Iced tea, if you have it."

When he left I stretched out in the swivel chair I was sitting in, spinning it round a few times.

That was when I noticed something under his bed.

A slip of blue paper was sticking out of a dark wooden box, which was better concealed. I knew that box- it contained all of Paul sketches. Paul fancied himself somewhat of an artist and he kept some of his choice work in there. It had been a while since he had shown me any of his recent stuff, what with everything that had been going on in school. The blue paper was definitely something I'd not seen before. I went to have a look, knowing Paul wouldn't mind- I checked out his art box all the time. But when I made to open it, I found that it was locked.

Paul never locked his art box. It was always accessible to all of his friends who visited him- he loved showing off what he considered to be his best drawings. But now it was shut up. I sat on the floor staring at it for a couple of moments. Then a thought came to me, almost without my being aware of it.

I should have just pushed the art box back under the bed and forgotten it. But a few wiggles using the tip of my ballpoint pen and a couple of yanks later, the box was open and I was pulling out several sheets of paper.

Instead of sketches, I found blueprints. Intricate and detailed, depicting a building I did not recognize. It looked like something was written at the top but had been scratched off. In fact, it seemed that wherever there was writing of any kind, it had been scratched away. There were lots of small boxes, all unnamed, save one.

_B3776._

"What on earth...?" I murmured, as I pulled out another sheet of paper. More blueprints. It appeared to be the same building but from a different perspective. Another sheet held what looked like a schedule of some kind. What was this and why was Paul hiding it?

"Put those down!"

I jumped violently. Spinning around I saw Paul holding two glasses. He set them down on the table, his eyes filled with anger.

"Paul you nearly gave me a heart attack!" I said standing up quickly.

"I said put those down." His voice was so soft I could barely hear him.

Unnerved, I set them on the bed. Paul stormed toward me. I flinched as he came near, but he passed me and snatched up the papers. He threw me a cold glare.

"Why were you going through my things?" he demanded.

"I wasn't! I just- I saw it sticking out from under your bed and- I mean come on, it's just some blueprints. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done it."

"Yeah you shouldn't," he said sharply.

"I'm _sorry_ ," I repeated. "It won't happen again."

He said nothing, just kept staring at me angrily. There was that look again, that unnatural penetrating stare he had given me yesterday at my mother's party. Without the wan smile he seemed more threatening than I've ever known him to be. I felt uncomfortable and wished he would look away. I knew he had every right to be upset but it seemed he was _too_ angry about the whole thing. So I looked at some blueprints instead of his sketches.

Big deal. It was nothing to get so worked up about.

"Maybe I should go," I said uncertainly.

"I think you should," he whispered. He finally took his eyes off of me and looked down at the papers in his hand. His face was a mask of dark thoughtfulness.

I knew it was insane but I couldn't help myself- I had to ask.

"What are they Paul?"

Paul's eyes flashed a metallic silver, so suddenly that I gave a little gasp and stepped back.

"It's none of your business, Anna! Now get out!" he snapped, fangs glinting. His eyes did not change back. If anything, they grew colder.

In a daze, I left. As I turned the corner I glanced back at him. He was still staring at the papers in his hand... but not quite seeing them, I thought.

This was not my cousin. Never before in my life had he deliberately tried to scare me like that. When he'd first powered up, he and I were playing in my backyard. I was still very young. He had terrified me. Actually, he had terrified himself. But since then, he'd been cautious not to spring his new form on me, when I least expected it. Now he no longer seemed to care.

Those papers obviously meant a great deal to him and he had been terribly upset when I'd discovered them. Why did he feel the need to keep them hidden? What was so special about them?

I thought about it for the rest of the day and the day after that. When I saw Paul at school he didn't even pointedly ignore me. Instead he appeared to not even notice that I was in school that day. He stared right through me, walking by as if I were a wall. And for once I didn't feel inclined to go after him.

Around lunchtime I saw him go over to Lisa Kline, the girl he had a crush on and whisper something in her ear. Her normally cheerful disposition had vanished and she looked very serious. She just nodded and went on eating her meal. I didn't think anything of it until a little later, when I found him with Jana in a secluded area of the grounds. They seemed to be having an argument which I thought strange because he and Jana never had much to say to each other outside of school.

Jana looked up and saw me watching them. She nudged Paul and nodded toward me. He didn't even look directly at me, just in my general direction. Then he walked away. Jana on the other hand came right up to me. I fought an urge to step back.

"Got a problem, Arrian?" she said, staring me up and down as if she were sizing me up.

I ignored this and blatantly asked her, "What's up with Paul? What were you talking to him about?"

"I'm sure if he wanted you to know he'd have told you wouldn't he?" she sneered.

She began to walk away but I held onto her arm. "You don't know Paul very well, do you? He's a good guy but he does stupid things sometimes. And if he's keeping something from me then chances are it's serious. Jana, what is it?"

She pulled her arm away and glared at me but I saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She looked… scared.

"Jana?"

"Just drop it okay? Leave me alone and stay out of it," she said fiercely. The bell rang then and she turned and walked away.

"Arrian? Arrian, did you hear what I just said?" Warren was asking.

It was after school, and Warren and I were the only ones who turned up for the meeting in an empty classroom. I wasn't surprised about Jana not turning up but Paul never missed a meeting. He must have been really angry with me. Still, I couldn't help but think it was probably just as well- we were nearly finished with the work, and Paul and Jana would have hindered more than they helped.

"Hmm?" I said, getting back to the present.

"I asked you if you proofed the 'Work Cited' page."

"Oh yeah, sorry," I said absently.

Warren gave me a disapproving look as he continued typing on my laptop. "I've blended my notes into the introduction and the summary. It'll have to be updated but don't worry about that- I'll edit it later."

"That's fine," I said, staring down at my paper, pretending to write but deep in thought.

"And I've accidentally deleted the entire paper. There's no retrieving it," he added.

"Okay." I murmured, then started. "Wait, _what_?"

Warren exhaled in frustration. "Arrian, you're not listening to a word I'm saying! If you're going to be as useless as the other two I'm better off finishing this on my own."

That made me sit up. A part of me wanted to take him up on his offer and just go home, but I couldn't do that. It was bad enough that Paul and Jana had bailed.

"All right, I'm listening," was all I could manage.

"Why aren't they here, anyway? Not that I'm complaining, but we need the help."

"They're...busy."

"Doing what?"

"I don't know."

"Well you're the group leader, _shouldn't_ you know?"

"Well, I don't!" I practically shouted.

Warren looked at me steadily and then turned to the laptop again, keeping his face passive. I bit my lip, feeling bad about my outburst.

"I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"Forget it."

I sighed. "The truth is, I don't know what's going on with either of them."

Warren continued to type, saying nothing.

"I mean Jana's just being Jana. But Paul... he's been acting so weird lately, keeping things from me and getting upset over nothing."

He still didn't say anything but stopped typing. Finally he looked over at me.

"And why do you think that's happening?" he asked.

"I have no idea," I said truthfully, half to myself. "He wasn't always like this, you know. He was...different. Better. I mean, he was okay before the whole thing with my dad and-" I stopped.

" _My_ dad," Warren finished calmly. I nodded, not meeting his eyes.

I should have just shut up then but he didn't seem angry. In fact, he was listening. And finding that I had so much bottled up within me, I had to continue.

"It just changed Paul. I thought he'd be all right when enough time had passed. But then _this_ happened. We used to be able to talk to each other. Now he barely speaks to me."

Warren didn't say anything but his expression spoke volumes.

"He's a good person," I insisted. "You never see it, but he is. He's just going through something right now, but… it'll blow over. He got over it before, he'll get over it again."

"Maybe he never got over it in the first place," Warren said softly. "Maybe you just thought he did."

"No, Paul wouldn't just hold onto...I don't believe that," I said. But the frightening truth was, I did.

"It's all because of this stupid project," I said in frustration. "I just can't wait for it to be over."

"You and me both," he said sincerely.

I gave a little laugh, if only to break the tension. Warren just shook his head, his expression only hinting at a smile.

We spent the next hour editing and re-editing the paper. During that time I tried to keep focused, but my mind wandered back to my cousin and his strange behavior. I couldn't make sense of anything he'd been doing lately. Since Jana wasn't about to tell me, I mused, there was only one other person it seemed who could possibly shed some light.

Lisa Kline.


	8. What Would You Do?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Eight- What Would You Do?**

I'd made up my mind to speak to Lisa at lunch the next day. It seemed she was the only one who could make sense out of anything that was going on with Paul. Yet even with this in mind, there were only two days left till the presentation was due and that had to take first priority.

In the morning before classes began, I managed to get Jana, Paul and Warren into the Hero History classroom to give it a final going over. "I think it looks great," I said enthusiastically as we finished reading it through. "Now all we need to do is split the presentation tasks. Jana, you can work the projector- putting up the graphs, timelines and stuff. Warren, you can present the Influential Superheroes and Villains of the present, I'll deal with the past and Paul, you can deal with the prospects of the future. Sound good?"

Everyone nodded. I'd specifically designated the roles accordingly- Jana was safely out of the way to avoid ruining the presentation with her limited knowledge of what we had done in the past two weeks; Paul dealing with future Heroes left no opportunity to make snide remarks about Barron Battle; Warren presenting Heroes and Villains of the present would avoid the touchy subject of his father; I, dealing with the past would take great care to avoid his dad entirely. I thought it was pretty clever thinking on my part.

"Are we going to read directly from our report, or summarize it in our own words?" Warren asked.

"We sort of put it in our own words but we'll have summarized copies of the report with us, just in case we get lost on a certain point. But Mr. Mnemonic doesn't want us just reading our paper word for word. He told me we have to show that we know exactly what we're talking about when we're presenting."

"Not a problem for us then," he commented and I nodded, smiling in agreement.

Paul made a rude noise under his breath. I took great care to ignore him.

"Let's do a quick practice, okay? I'll go first," I said. Going up to the front of the class, next to the blackboard I began, "'This is Group Two, presenting the topic _Influential Superheroes and Villains: Past, Present, and Future_. Heroes and Villains have been around since the beginning of time. Today we are going to note some of more significant Heroes and Villains throughout history, in our present day and discuss potential superheroes and possible aspects of villainy in the future…'"

I skimmed over the bulk of my part, as we had little time till class began for the day and I wanted to get the first run over with. Jana kept up with me, showing the right images and charts at the right time and I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She was my biggest worry concerning the project.

Next in reporting was Warren. Not surprisingly, he barely glanced at the paper as he explained the various aspects of heroic and villainous deeds. He was halfway through an account of one daring attempt to bring down the moon when Paul raised his hand, addressing me for the first time in days.

"Shouldn't we have a time restriction? We only have thirty minutes to present this. Some people are taking longer than they have to," he said, looking pointedly at Warren.

"Paul, why don't you just shut up? This is only a test run. We'll sort the timing out later."

I couldn't believe him. For the past few days he wouldn't so much as say hello to me. Now that he finally spoke to me, it was only to get on Warren's case. It was as if he hated Warren and his father more than he cared about me. I couldn't help but wonder if I even mattered to him anymore.

To make matters worse, we were so close to completing this and here he was trying to ruin things.

"It's not like you have much to do anyway Findle," Warren muttered, staring hatefully at Paul through half-lidded eyes. "And considering you bailed at the last minute, I'd think you'd be happy to get the least amount of work."

"Don't you start either Warren," I said warningly. "I said we'll sort it out."

"I have more to do than you think, Peace," Paul said, ignoring me. "With future heroes come future villains. And who'd know more about future villains than _you_?" Paul took a step forward, his deep black eyes shining with pure malevolence. "Maybe we should have given you this part."

"Paul, stop it!" I demanded.

Jana made a peculiar noise, as if she was trying hard not to laugh. She was sitting in one of the chairs, watching the scene with such nonchalant amusement that I suddenly wanted to smack her.

"You don't know anything about me Findle," Warren whispered tersely.

"Oh, I know more about you than you think." There was that look in his eyes again-overly-focused, disturbingly serene. "You go to this school, come to classes, do these pointless projects. But you know as well as I do that it doesn't make a difference. It doesn't change the kind of person you are- a psycho villain in training."

"Paul!" I cried, shocked. Grabbing his arm I yelled, "What's the matter with you? Can't you stop being an idiot for five minutes?!"

A door slammed. I looked over to where Warren was- but he was gone. Without another word, I went after him.

I caught up with him just as he reached the front doors of Sky High.

"Warren, where are you going? We haven't finished practicing," I said breathlessly.

"Well I have," he said harshly. He attempted to go through the door again, but I stopped him.

"Warren, please. We're so close. Just a couple more days then it's over. If you come back- just ignore Paul, he's being an idiot- and come back inside-"

" _I'm not going anywhere near your damn cousin_!" Warren shouted, suddenly losing it. A few students who were nearby stopped talking and stared at us. A couple of them took a step or two backwards.

Warren glanced at them with resentment. He looked back at me regretfully, as if he were sorry that he'd yelled. "You can stay around and take his crap if you want to. But I've had enough!"

For a moment, I was too stunned by his outburst to do anything. Then I finally found my voice.

"Fine," I said quietly. That was all I said. I stepped out of his way and watched him storm through the doors and leave.

Furious with Paul's coldness and with Jana's insensitivity, I almost ran back to the classroom where we were having our presentation practice. Paul and Jana were still in there, whispering to each other. They stopped as soon as I entered the room, but I didn't care about that. I walked right up to Paul and shoved him as hard as I could, sending him stumbling into the nearby desks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled.

"You simply couldn't control yourself, could you?" I roared. "Aren't you tired making people miserable?"

Paul glared at me coldly. "I'm sorry- did I make your new best friend cry?"

"Don't be an ass, Paul!" I cried, taking an angry step toward him. "Is it worth it, me failing this class? Because I will if we screw this up!"

"Why should I care?" he retorted. "You turned your back on me and all you care about is your stupid grade!"

"Well one of us should! And what the _hell_ are you looking at?" I said heatedly to Jana, who was still wearing that smug look on her face.

"I'm looking at you," she said coolly. "Who else?"

Suddenly filled with an intense anger, I shouted, "Don't you push me Jana!" My hands instantly felt warm as I powered up.

Jana looked taken aback for only a split second. She immediately stood up and suddenly the room went darker. The sunlight that filtered through the window was somehow lessened; the electric lights overhead flickered; my own light-power seemed dimmed, to my greater fury. Jana didn't just draw the life out of a being and return it at will; she could kill light, even sound.

"And don't you take it out on me just because things aren't going your way, _Anna_." Her voice was unnaturally low. Paul didn't say a word to either of us; he fumed at his shoes, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

I don't know what I would have done to her but the bell rang then, signaling the homeroom period as well as bringing me to my senses. I grabbed my bag and walked out of the classroom, but not before snapping at them, "Room twelve, right after school. You two had better be there."

xxxxx

In Hero History, I kept glancing at Warren, trying to catch his eye. I felt terrible about what Paul had said to him. It was cruel and malicious, even for my cousin. I wanted to apologize, but what good was an apology after something like that?

Twice, Warren met my gaze. And twice he looked into my eyes with that sullen expression before returning to his textbook, scowling at the pages.

After class I went over to him. "We have a meeting after school today. Room twelve."

"I already know what I have to do. I'll be there for the presentation." He hoisted his backpack on his shoulder. "But I won't be going to any more meetings. Not while _he's_ there."

"Warren…" I lowered my voice as the others rushed out to get to their next class. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier. Paul shouldn't have said that about you."

He didn't say anything for a time and he didn't look at me. Keeping his gaze averted, he muttered, "You can't spend the rest of your life apologizing for everything he does, Arrian. You're not his keeper."

His last words had such an effect on me that I hardly noticed when the classroom had completely emptied and I was left all alone.

xxxxxx

I saw Lisa Kline looking for a decent table at lunchtime. She had seen some of her friends and waved, making her way over to them. But I accosted her before she took another step.

"Hi Lisa."

"Oh, hey Anna," she said. "Are you looking for Paul? I haven't seen him today."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh." She seemed surprised and a bit confused. We never said much to each other when Paul wasn't around. "Ok...um, we can sit here," she said, gesturing to a nearby empty table.

Once we were seated, Lisa looked at me expectantly. "So what's up?"

At first I didn't know what to say or rather, how to say it. Lisa had been spending a lot more time with Paul than I had lately and she might have noticed something about him that I'd missed. He might have even confided in her. But was it my right to go asking her about it if he had?

I decided then that I didn't care. Paul's recent behavior and secrecy was not something to be taken lightly. I was determined to get answers if I could.

"Well… I know you and Paul are friends. You hang out with him a lot-"

Lisa's smile faded. "Though not as much as you do," she said softly. She tried to make her voice light but it sounded somewhat strained.

I noticed her suddenly somber expression and said quietly, "I think we can cut the small talk now, don't you?"

She took a breath and exhaled slowly. She didn't answer.

"There's something going on with Paul. No, don't tell me there isn't," I said, as she tried to object. "I know there is. He's been acting strangely and hanging with the wrong crowd- Jana Vega of all people. He just hasn't been himself. And he won't tell me anything." I looked Lisa squarely in the eyes. "Do you know anything about it? Has he told you something?"

Her expression was a mixture of contemplation and something else- hesitation, even fear. For a long while she didn't say anything. She stared into her lunch tray.

"Lisa, if something's serious is going on, you have to tell me. It could be very, very important."

"Do you know when this all started?" she asked suddenly, in a voice so quiet I had to strain to hear her above the noise of the lunchroom. "Yeah. You know who did this." She nodded, but didn't take her eyes off of her tray.

At first I had no idea what she was talking about, but suddenly it hit me. "Barron Battle."

She gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Battle's almost all Paul talks about now. Since the project, him working with- with Warren…it's like he brought it all back."

Something about the way she said it gave me an odd feeling in my stomach. "What has he been saying?"

She didn't answer and she still wouldn't look at me. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Lisa, what's he done?" I asked, feeling a horrible panic rise within me.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I can't tell you. I could _never_ tell you. He'd- he'd make me sorry if I did. He told me so."

My whole body went numb as she said these last words. Again, these were not the words of my cousin. Paul never threatened anyone. But I was desperate. I had to know what was going on. "Lisa, I know you must be scared right now, but you have to tell me. Is it to do with the blueprints?"

At the mention of the blueprints she finally looked up at me sharply. "How do you know about those?"

"I found them in his room. What are they? Why did Paul have them?"

"Anna, there's so much…so much that you're better off not knowing."

"Lisa, please-"

"You know Paul," she said, grabbing my arm. "You're his family after all. What does he really want? With everything that's happened, everything he feels he's been robbed of…what would you do?"

"Lisa- I need to talk to you."

Lisa and I both jumped. Her tray shot off the table as a burst of telekinetic energy escaped her. Food spattered in all directions.

Paul stood behind us, arms folded as he stared at Lisa gravely. He didn't so much as glance at me- his refusal to acknowledge my presence was so adamant that for a second even I doubted if I was really there.

"I have to go," she told me. She rose from the table gracefully and followed him out of the door into the hallway. I stared after them, my mind whirling with new and terrifying thoughts.

xxxxxx

The group meeting that afternoon was for the most part quiet and short- within an hour we rehearsed our presentation, tweaking little things that we (meaning I) thought would make it better. We made plans to have our final meeting the following afternoon at the same time.

When it was over we all headed home. Paul walked quickly ahead of me, obviously wanting to be alone. For some reason I called out, "I'll see you tomorrow, Paul!"

He didn't answer me, or even turn around. It was what I expected but I felt hurt about it all the same. It was as if I no longer knew who he was. Though we got on the same school bus Paul sat two rows ahead of me. He was looking out of the window, apparently deep in thought.

When I got home I saw my dad sitting in the living room. He was fast asleep on the couch, his newspaper still spread open on his lap. I sat down next to him and stared at the blank screen of the television set. Mom was somewhere in the kitchen making dinner. I didn't want to announce my presence to her just yet- she'd have questions about how my day was and I wasn't prepared to answer them. So I sat there, replaying the day's events in my mind.

I thought I knew Paul. Sure, he had his flaws like everyone else, but he was wonderful for the most part. I didn't see that now. Instead I saw someone else- someone that scared me like no other person ever had.

_There's so much that you're better off not knowing…_

But I wasn't better off. It was the not knowing that was driving me crazy. The possibilities, the speculations had to be worse than what was really going on.

I leaned against the sleeping form of my father. Sometimes, I wondered if being a superhero was really worth any of it.


	9. Secrets. Always Secrets.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Nine- Secrets. Always Secrets.**

Five minutes must have passed before my father woke up. He stretched, sighing before he finally noticed me.

"Oh hello, Annie. How long have you been home?"

"Only a few minutes."

"Something wrong?" he asked me, seeing the gloomy look on my face which I evidently failed at hiding.

"No," I said as lightly as I could. "Just wanted to hang out with you, is all."

He chuckled softly, glancing down at the newspaper that lay on his lap. "Oh, look at this," he sighed disapprovingly. "Arthur Rennington's tried to break out of Maxville's Correctional Facility for Super Villains _again_."

"Arthur Rennington?"

"You'd know him as Overlord."

"Egotistical maniac with a penchant for blowing things up?" I recalled tentatively.

"That's the one. You'd think he'd call it quits after the fourteenth attempt. His powers don't work in there in any case."

"They have a power neutralizing system, like in detention?" I guessed.

"You're close, but not exactly. See, each prisoner has to wear a special steel wristband which neutralizes his or her powers. That way, anyone else with super abilities, for example the special guards, can subdue them effectively if needed."

"I see," I murmured. There was something pulling at the back of my mind, but I didn't say anything else for a while.

"What are you thinking about?" Dad asked me.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." I paused for a few moments. Then I asked, "Dad, are those wristbands all that keep them in control? I mean, other than the obvious prison cells."

"I wouldn't call them prison cells," he said, frowning. "They're actually quite comfortable modern spaces. A bit too good for the likes of some of them, if you ask me," he muttered darkly, shaking his head. "But no, some of them need a little more attention than others. The Hacker for instance, can't exactly have computer rights like some of his fellow inmates, can he?"

I laughed. "I guess not. And what else?"

"What do you mean?" he asked me, turning to look at me seriously.

"What else is done to keep them locked up?"

A crease formed in my father's brow. "Why all these questions, Annie?"

I wasn't sure. Somewhere there was a reason, but I couldn't grasp it. I bit my lip.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'm going to go see what Mom's making for dinner."

I got up and went into the kitchen, forcing my mind to dwell on the present, like the smell of my mother's tuna casserole and how I was going to tackle my homework.

xxxxxxx

I listened absently to my mother telling my father about the new thyme plant she'd gotten from Mrs. Lieson, our neighbor. My father in turn expressed his enthusiasm over the recent curb in bank robberies in the city. I drifted in and out of the conversation until my mother's voice brought me back:

"Anna, honey? Is the casserole all right? You've barely touched it."

I immediately began forking food into my mouth, trying to smile as I did so. "No, it's great," I managed in between bites, nearly choking as I did so.

My parents looked at me oddly. It was time to leave- they tended to ask a lot of questions if I wasn't acting as I should.

"Um, could I be excused? I have to get started on my homework."

My parents just nodded, looking at me carefully. I tried not to jump out of my seat and race to my room. Once I was there, I reluctantly pulled out my homework from my book bag, _The Physics of Super Abilities_ being the farthest thing from my mind.

As I doodled absently in the corners of my textbook, I kept thinking about Lisa and what she'd said. I replayed it over and over in my head, repeating her words so many times they ceased to sound like English. After a while, I sighed hopelessly and glanced down at the page.

In the top left corner of my textbook, I surveyed my handiwork. In a large spidery scrawl, was ' _B3776_ '.

I remembered it- it was what I'd seen on Paul's blueprints. Struck with a new thought, I dashed over to my computer and did a search: _B3776._

Nothing of any real importance turned up, nothing that would help. I huffed in frustration.

"You're perfectly useless, Lisa Kline," I muttered, finally shoving my half-finished homework back into my bag. I'd do the rest of it in the morning.

xxxxx

I woke up early, shivering. Looking out my window, I saw the sky was a steely gray color which made it seem even colder. Groaning loudly just because I felt like it, I snatched up my towel and had a long hot shower.

When I went into the kitchen my mom was there, having coffee.

"You're up early," she commented, as she stirred the contents of her cup.

"I couldn't get back to sleep," I explained, pulling out a box of sugary cereal from the cupboard.

"Hmm, trouble sleeping. That's not a good sign."

I didn't look at her, but I knew she had her eyes on me. "It's nothing."

My mother let several long seconds pass by before she ventured, "I've noticed Paul hasn't been around lately. And you don't visit him."

"We've been busy," I said shortly, then changed the subject. "Can you get more Sugar Blasts today? We're out," I added, pouring the last of the cereal into my bowl.

My mother nodded, but was not going to be sidetracked. "Have you two been fighting?"

"No! I mean…it's just- it's nothing, okay? Paul's just having a little snit; you know how he gets sometimes."

"I do know. But I've never seen him quite like this."

I stopped chewing. "Like what?"

"I saw Paul yesterday. In the library, when I went to return some books that your father checked out. He was in the microfilm section, looking up old newspapers I guess. He didn't see me. I went to say over to say hi, but there was this look on his face that…well I just stopped. I stopped and went the other way."

My mother's face had a faraway look, as if she were reliving an unpleasant memory. I reached out and took her hand.

"He's going to be fine," I told her.

She looked at me then and her expression softened. She smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes which surprised me.

"I know I can't be like other mothers. I can't always say that I know what you're going through, that I've been there myself when I was your age. I'm not like your father and Paul. But I'd like to think that you would trust me with anything, anything at all. You _do_ know that you can talk to me, don't you?"

I looked at her wistfully. At that moment I longed to tell her everything- the blueprints, all my suspicions about Paul, what Lisa had said, Paul's behavior, and everything else. But the words stuck in my throat. What could my mother do that would help? How could she really understand what Paul was going through? She was right. As much as I loved her, the sad fact was that she could never be a full part of Paul's, Dad's and my world.

"I know," I said at last. "I know that." I went back to my cereal.

Mom looked slightly disappointed at these words but she nodded. "You're right. He'll be okay. He always is in the end."

I looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

My mother glanced at me and a flicker of remorse flashed in her eyes. She tried to make her expression light, happy. "I'm just saying that Paul is resilient. He'll get over it."

I had a feeling that wasn't what she meant. But I kept quiet and finished my breakfast. When I went upstairs to put on my coat and get my book bag, I had a strange new feeling. Mom wasn't telling me something. Paul too, had his secrets. So did I. It was as if I was being barred from all sides, including my own.

xxxxxx

I ran into Warren on the steps of Sky High. He looked perfectly miserable in the chilly weather; his trademark leather jacket zipped right up to his chin. His hands and arms were aflame and I stood closer, enjoying the warmth. I tried not to look too obvious about it, but it was _cold_. It took all my willpower not to stick out my hands as if he were a fireplace. That would have been beyond rude.

But Warren paid no notice. He was frowning darkly at Andrew Waterton, a tall gangly boy who could control the weather. He shuffled away after a while, looking very uncomfortable beneath Warren's stare.

"You know he's not allowed to." I told him, with a hint of regret in my voice. "I saw the paper today- the forecast said chilly, with scattered showers."

"He could if he wanted to," Warren answered stubbornly. But he sighed and finally looked at me. "So how was it?"

I knew he was talking about yesterday's meeting, but I didn't feel like getting into it. "Nondescript," I said simply and he didn't press the matter. "You sure you won't come to this one?" I asked after a while.

Warren immediately looked away with a scoff, obviously remembering what happened at the last meeting he attended. He didn't bother to answer.

"Fine. See you in class," I said in a dry voice as I walked away.

xxxxxx

Paul was sitting next to Jana in Hero History and they wouldn't shut up for the entire class. Mr. Mnemonic repeatedly asked them to be quiet and when that didn't work, he kept calling on them to answer questions, which they always answered correctly. Finally he asked them to go to Principal Powers' office.

I watched them as they walked out of the classroom, remembering the time when I was in Jana's place. Were we really that oblivious in class? I felt embarrassed at the thought.

I turned around to see Warren. He gave me a deliberately pointed look almost as if he knew what I was thinking. I turned back around, feeling uncomfortable.

After class was over I went up to Mr. Mnemonic's desk to hand in my homework. When I got back to my desk and started packing up my stuff, one of the kids accidentally bumped into me. My bag fell- books, paper and stationery scattered all over the floor.

"Gosh, thanks a lot!" I snapped angrily at the boy, who didn't even look back, much less offer to help. Muttering under my breath, I began to pick up my things.

"Need a hand?"

I glanced up briefly at Warren who didn't wait for a reply, but began helping me gather my books.

"Thanks," I murmured, trying to reach a pen that had gone under a chair. Becoming impatient after a second, I finally powered up, using my light force to draw it out into the open. Once I got it, I looked up.

Warren was staring at something in my Hero History textbook which had fallen open. His face grew curious, surprised and then very angry.

"What's wrong?" I said, alarmed.

He snatched up my textbook and pointed roughly at one of the pages. "You think this is funny, Arrian?!"

At first I didn't know what he could have possibly found in my textbook that was so infuriating. I stupidly scanned the notes on the Evolution of the Hero's Secret Headquarters for some seconds, looking to find what could have offended him. Finally, my eyes caught the top left corner of the book.

It was the strange code I'd doodled the night before. What was wrong with that?

"What? I don't understand-"

"I thought you were okay," he muttered in a soft but furious tone, shaking his head. "I should have known better." With that, he tossed my textbook back on the floor, stood up and stormed off.

"Warren-!" I called out after him.

But he was gone. A few moments went by as I tried to decipher what had just happened. Finally, I gave up and gathered my things quickly so I wouldn't be late for the next class.

Is everyone around me losing their minds? I wondered, making my way to Concepts of Super Physics. I tried to figure out what could have upset Warren so much about what I'd written. What was so special about it?

xxxx

I didn't speak to anyone else until school was over. Paul refused to talk to me and now so was Warren for some inexplicable reason. I hadn't realized until it happened that Warren was my last remaining connection to something that vaguely resembled a social life at Sky High. Now I felt more isolated than ever.

The last meeting before the presentation the following day was again uneventful and somber. We ran through it twice without a hitch. Skipping over Warren's part made the practice session end earlier than scheduled. When we were finished Paul and Jana stood around, looking at me with sullen expectancy.

"That's it," I said, folding my arms and staring at my sneakers. "We're done. Don't be late tomorrow."

They both picked up their things to leave. At the door Paul turned to me, a strange indecisive expression on his face. He looked as if there was something he really wanted to tell me, but he couldn't get the words out.

"What? What is it Paul?" I asked gently, encouragingly.

He gazed at me with something like his former easygoing affection. But it only lasted a moment. The deep scowl returned and he left, slamming the door behind him. I stared at the door, suddenly wanting to cry.

But I forced myself not to. Sniffling hard and blinking away the tears before they could fall, I put away the projector, gathered my notes and was on the bus for home within five minutes.

Waking up the next morning, I remembered dreaming something about black water and papers scrawled with red ink. It was strangely disturbing, but I made myself forget about it. I had to get through today.


	10. B3776

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Ten-** _**B3776** _

When I got to Sky High, I was very nervous about the presentation. I couldn't eat anything for breakfast and was dressed and at the bus stop corner a full forty minutes before the bus itself was due.

As soon as I arrived at school, I raced to Hero History class. Warren and Jana were already there, arms folded, facing away from each other. I suspected that some words were exchanged, but I could care less about that now.

"Okay Jana, do you have the projector slides?" I asked breathlessly.

She silently held them up, complete boredom etched on her pale features.

"Great, great- Warren, got your point chart?"

He nodded slowly but the look in his eyes clearly showed that he was still angry with me. Well, it couldn't be helped at the moment.

"Good. Well then. I guess…I guess we're all set," I said reluctantly. I wasn't fully convinced that I hadn't forgotten something vital.

Paul strolled in, tossing his bag and folder on the table with deliberate carelessness. He looked at Jana meaningfully and she mirrored his expression. I wondered briefly what that was all about, but my mind again dashed on in a mental race to make sure everything was absolutely perfect for the presentation.

I could barely sit still as I waited for our turn. We were Group Two so I didn't have to wait long, which was both a good and a bad thing. Good, because I could get it over with sooner; bad because Group One was already winding to a close and we were up next.

"…and thanks to the ingenious tactics of the great Heroes before our time, we can now plan ahead to fight evil in the present, as well as for future generations," Alicia Detten finished.

As the class gave its obligatory applause, my stomach dropped. It was time.

"Thank you very much, Group One. Very well put together and executed. Well done."

Alicia's face was practically glowing. Smiling, she along with her fellow group members took their seats.

"Group Two will now be presenting. Again, the group members are Jana Vega, Anna Arrian, Paul Findle and Warren Peace. Group Two, you may begin at any time."

The four of us got up from our seats and set up what we needed in a matter of seconds. I didn't look at anyone as I cleared my throat (twice) and began my introduction.

"Good morning everyone. Today, we are going to present _Influential Superheroes and Villains: Past, Present, and Future_." My voice wavered like crazy. Someone in the back snickered and was immediately shushed by Mr. Mnemonic. Swallowing, I continued.

"Um…it is a known fact that Heroes and Villains have been around since the beginning of time. We are going to talk about some of the more influential Heroes and Villains throughout history, in our present day and discuss potential Superheroes and possible aspects of villainy in the future."

Right on cue and without any prompting on my part, Jana turned on the projector to the timelines I needed. Automatically, I gave her a grateful smile before continuing.

"Now if you will take a look over _here_ , you'll see some of the more renowned superheroes and the major accomplishments they achieved during their lifetime-"

I went briefly through each of the Heroes and Villains throughout the centuries, noting their more memorable contributions as Jana kept up with me, changing the diagrams as needed. I even (rather proudly) mentioned my dad and his contributions in protecting Maxville, since he went inactive only a few years before. I concluded my part with a list of ways they set a precedent for the major acts of heroism and villainy in the present day and when I was done, Warren, who'd been silently standing behind up until this point, came forward.

"Most of you guys are probably pretty familiar with the major Heroes and Villains in our present time," he began, and I blinked at him; he was talking to them in a surprisingly casual tone. "So I won't be going into detail about who they are and what they've done. Instead, I'll be talking about how they've affected what it means to be a Hero- or a Villain- today."

He said those last words with a quiet thoughtfulness that made me pay more attention. I wasn't alone: nearly every student in class was practically leaning out of their seat to hear what the son of one of the most infamous Villains in Maxville had to say about present day Villainy.

But he kept to the topic with no reference to himself or his father, which was expected but nevertheless mildly disappointing to the general audience- myself excluded. Warren concisely discussed the victories of The Commander and Jetstream against Royal Pain; The Daring Defender against The Hacker and the Overlord (and so forth), and the effect these victories had on the roles both sides played.

As he was speaking, I realized that there were some things Warren had added, that I did not recognize discussing in the meetings. I felt I should have been mad that he didn't run it by me first, but I was too absorbed in what he had to say. For instance, questioning what really defined a Hero and whether the end always justified the means.

"For example," he was saying, "When the Overlord threatened to blow up the Maxville Nuclear Power Plant if the Mayor didn't agree to release his sister from prison. Seems a bit extreme, nuking half the city for the sake of just one person. But I guess a lot of you didn't know that his sister, Madam Lenora was due to be executed by lethal injection in two days."

It seemed that everyone had stopped breathing, even Mr. Mnemonic. It was obvious that none of us knew that.

"You also might not have known that the Daring Defender, in stopping the Overlord, seriously injured several employees in the process. One of them later died." Warren paused for a moment, and took a breath. "But hey, he got the job done, right? He stopped a man who, in the end, only wanted to save his sister's life. Of course Madame Lenora was executed last year, right on schedule. And the Overlord is safely in prison where, don't get me wrong, he should be. But it kind of makes you wonder… whose intentions were really noble, no matter how misguided and who just wanted to win badly enough."

For a few seconds one could have heard a pin drop, as his words sunk in. Then Warren cleared his throat.

"Anyway, that's my part on the influence of today's Heroes and Villains."

As he finished his piece and took a step back, the class began murmuring among themselves. However, Mr. Mnemonic immediately shushed them as Paul came up. He gave a swift scan of his notes, and then began to speak.

"Influential Super Heroes of tomorrow…well, I guess that's us."

Some of the class laughed and cheered. Paul raised his hand, waiting for silence before saying, "Seriously though. What exactly does it take to make an exceptional Hero? And can we actually predict potential villainy through behavior, psychological tests…genetics?"

Paul said the last part with an almost instinctive glance in Warren's direction. It was so subtle, I didn't think that anyone else caught it, except Warren; he set his jaw in a tense line.

But that was as far as it went. Paul discussed the potential qualities that future outstanding Heroes should possess- knowledge of the latest technology, as well as being a skilled fighter, among other things.

He then discussed possible ways that future Heroes could protect people and prevent crimes from taking place. Finally, he ended with, "In a few years we'll be graduating and on our way to protecting the innocent from evil-doers. But it isn't all glory and fame. There's a lot of responsibility involved, not only for the lives of those we protect, but…."

Paul stopped in mid-sentence and for a split second, looked as if he was going to be sick. But it passed; he swallowed a couple of times and continued speaking.

"Sorry. I was saying… someday we'll have to take responsibility, not only for the people we protect, but also for those we protect them from. It's only then, that we'll truly be accounted as the great influential superheroes of our time."

The class burst into genuine and spirited applause. Mr. Mnemonic gave us a wan smile.

"Well, that was…interesting. Very interesting," he said in a distant voice, then seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was having. "Yes, excellent job, Group Two. Thank you."

As I handed in our group paper, I realized that it was all over. It was done. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I made my way to my seat.

As Group Three began, my thoughts turned to the presentation we'd just done. Though it had not gone _exactly_ according to what was planned, it still went over wonderfully. To all outward appearances.

Warren's contribution had struck a chord with some of the class and they weren't the only ones. His words made me question the entire hero-villain dynamic, and not in a good way. For all the Heroes I had ever idolized, including my dad, I couldn't help but wonder: where did the Villain truly end and the Hero begin in each of them?

Disturbed, I turned around to glance at Warren. He was staring ahead with a vague contemplative expression. To anyone else it would seem he was paying attention to Group Three, but his eyes had an absent look as if he were far away.

I turned back around. And again I thought of my father. In his active days, even when I was a kid, I knew he wasn't a perfect Hero. Mistakes had been made and he couldn't save everyone. But how many people had he willingly sacrificed in order to get the bad guy? I wondered if it wouldn't have been better to have just let the enemy get away…

I sat up sharply. No, I wasn't going to doubt my father. He made the choices he had to. If I couldn't trust his past decisions as a Hero then who _could_ I look to for inspiration, for reassurance in my own journey towards saving the world someday?

Yet try as I might, I still wondered. Warren's words stayed with me for the duration of Hero History. And despite my loyalty to all the Heroes I had ever looked up to, I couldn't help but agree with him.

xxxxxxx

When class was finally over, I went over to my now former group mates. Now that our project was over I felt I had to say some kind of parting words as their former group leader.

"Well, I think it went pretty well you guys. We did some great work even with…well, everything that's happened. Paul… you were awesome. You really had your stuff together out there. And the part about hero responsibility was wonderful. I'm really proud of you."

Paul, who'd turned away grumpily since I addressed him, suddenly turned round to look at me, genuinely surprised. I gave him a lasting warm look, before looking at Jana. "Jana…. you did good today. Actually, you did _great_. Thank you."

Jana's perpetual half sneer dissolved somewhat. "No problem," she said softly, with a vaguely confused expression. I smiled genuinely at her and finally turned to speak to Warren.

But he was gone.

"Oh," I said, somewhat disappointed. I had hoped that I could make amends for whatever I had done to offend him. "Well, I guess that's it. Thanks again for all your help. See you around." I turned and made my way to my desk to pick up my bag.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Paul pause for a moment, his gaze fixed on me. Then he left, with Jana close behind.

xxxxxxxx

I went from class to class absentmindedly, musing over the Hero imperative among other things. I sat out my Save the Citizen session, claiming 'female problems'. It was a terrible excuse, especially for a Hero-in-training, but for once I really wasn't in the mood to duke it out with anyone and Coach Boomer didn't ask any questions.

I sat on the benches, my mind far away. The questions that I'd put aside for a while now came back to me: Paul's doings and Warren's cryptic fury, all because of…

"B3776," I murmured. They were connected somehow. I couldn't figure it out. But I was determined to.

The bell rang, signaling the end of school. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the class. I deposited my text books into my locker and then made my way towards the exit.

On the way out, I passed right by the Hero History classroom- then did a double take.

Warren was in there.

He was standing there, all alone. Seeing him I realized, I _had_ to talk to him. Not only for his sake, but for mine. There was something he wasn't telling me, just as there was something Paul and the girls weren't telling me. Yet I knew that to find out one meant that I would find out the other.

I stepped inside the room. But as soon as I did so, I wondered if it was such a good idea. I felt slightly nervous, even afraid to be alone with him. I knew Warren was still angry with me. But how angry was he?

Warren was staring at the blackboard. The last group had written the title of their presentation on it, and it was still there: _History's Perspective of the Definitive Super Hero_.

"Warren?" I said tentatively.

Warren didn't answer. He didn't seem to be even aware I was in the room. He continued to stare at the blackboard for some moments, not moving at all. Slowly, I made my way over to him.

"Uh…you okay?

"Silas Transperi said today," he murmured thoughtfully, still staring ahead, "and I'm quoting here, 'One of the fundamentals of a definitive Hero, is his infallible sense of right and wrong, his ability to detect a moral defect'. What do you think, Arrian?" he finished, turning to me so suddenly that I jumped.

"Um…I guess I agree with that," I stammered. I was so surprised he was talking to me after being so livid the other day, it was the best I could come up with.

"Really?" he said softly. "Think the world is that perfect, everything split down the middle in black and white? Or maybe that a person could always make the right decision every single time?"

I knew what he was getting at, but I didn't dare say anything at that point.

"They don't know anything- the teachers, the students." He scoffed. "Heroes, villains- they only see things from their own perspective, to hell with everyone else. But it never occurred to anyone that both sides might be too self-righteous. That everything isn't that clear-cut. That the definitive Hero could never exist, because the definitive Hero is a _contradiction_. The perfect Hero can only be perfect if he's the perfect Villain too."

I stared at him. I should have been at least a little freaked out by what he was saying, but his words made a disturbing amount of sense. No Hero could be purely righteous, just as no Villain was purely evil. Warren wasn't siding with Villains- he just opted to see things from both perspectives, and not be hypocritical when it came to assessing the choices of Heroes, or the actions of Villains.

He glared at me suddenly. "But what would you know about it?"

"Not much," I admitted. "But I can keep an open mind. In a way, I understand more than you think."

He shook his head in frustration and made to leave, but I stopped him.

"Warren look- I'm sorry about yesterday, about offending you-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," he said sarcastically.

"-but I don't know exactly what it was I did."

He looked at me incredulously. "Don't give me that! How else would you have known about it?!"

"The code thing? I… I just saw it somewhere." I didn't want to tell him where I'd seen it. That would have made things a whole lot worse.

Warren clearly didn't believe me; he must have thought I was playing some kind of mean game. "Stop wasting your time Arrian," he said sharply. "I'm going to be late for work."

I was getting really frustrated with him at this point. "I swear to you Warren, I have no idea what it is or why you're upset about it!"

Something in my voice must have gotten through to him. He looked intently at my face, and finally calmed down. "Just forget it all right? It doesn't matter."

"It obviously does. Can't you just _tell_ me?" I took a step closer. "Warren, what is it? Tell me."

Warren didn't say anything for a long while. Then he closed his eyes.

"Barron Battle. Cell block 493. Prisoner B3776."


	11. Paul's Plan

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Eleven- Paul's Plan**

It hadn't clicked at first once he'd said it. But then it did, and it took all my strength not to keel over. I tried to keep my expression calm, but I think Warren noticed- he looked at me warily as if he thought I was going to be sick.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," I told him quietly before I left and went home. I had to get out of there.

The next day, I got into trouble with Mr. Mnemonic for arriving late for class. But I barely heard his scolding. I was still reeling from what Warren had told me the day before.

It all came into place, so quickly, so obviously that I cursed myself for not seeing it sooner. Warren's father. It had _always_ been about Warren's father. The blue prints were of the prison. And Lisa Kline. She asked me what Paul truly wanted since my father had been hurt by Barron Battle. And I couldn't see it.

Yet try as I had, deep down, I didn't _want_ to see it. I didn't want to see what he'd become so obsessed with, what he truly wanted more than anything else...revenge.

And Jana Vega- she was always with my cousin, talking in hushed voices. I couldn't believe I didn't figure it out before.

But why Jana? I suddenly wondered. I could understand Lisa being in on it- she was so moony-eyed over Paul, he could get her to do anything. But what was Jana's part in this? What did she have to gain?

xxxxx

During the day, I tried to get Paul alone so that I could talk to him. But that seemed impossible. There was always someone around or someone who wanted to talk to me. Lunchtime came and once again he was with a group of the more popular kids at Sky High, joking around and taking no notice of me. He looked so carefree with them, so…normal.

I was going to have to talk with him though- friends or no friends. I made my way over to him and was nearly there when Lisa and Jana suddenly appeared at his side. Something about the look on their faces made me stop. Even Paul who was laughing, fell silent as he saw them. He nodded once.

Suddenly all three turned to me. Three pairs of eyes glared, burning with an enigmatic fury. I stifled a gasp and glanced away. There was no way I could talk to Paul now, not with those two around. I left the cafeteria, suddenly feeling a little sick.

xxxxxx

I had to do something. Stop him, if he could not stop himself. What on earth was he thinking? How did he intend to exact his revenge against Barron Battle? There was no way he could get into that prison. What did Paul think he was going to do?

But in the back of my mind I knew he'd find a way. He might have even already found one. He didn't look particularly worried at the moment.

If only I could get him alone…but he wouldn't talk or listen to me. Then what? The police? They'd never believe a junior Hero-in-training would try to break into Maxville's Correctional Facility for Super Villains to…

What exactly? Kill Barron Battle?

I thought of going to my father. He'd know what to do.

But then, what could he do that I couldn't do myself? I was a Hero too, after all. Well, sort of. And in a way, Paul was my responsibility. I'd deal with him myself.

It was only when the bell rang between Mad Science and Hero Arts did I see my chance. While the other students were filing out of the classroom, I rushed over to my cousin and grabbed his arm.

"Paul, we have to talk," I said urgently.

"Leave me alone," he snapped, pulling his arm away.

Losing my cool, I grabbed him again roughly. "Paul, sit down. _Now_."

Sullenly, he complied. "What do you want?"

I waited until everyone had left the room. When I was sure we were alone, I closed the door. Looking him in the eye, I told him bluntly, "I know what you're going to do. I know about Barron Battle."

Paul didn't move a muscle. He sat there completely relaxed and just stared at me.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say?"

"Yeah. Stay out of it." Paul rose from his seat and turned to leave.

"Paul! I am not going to just sit back and watch you do something crazy!" I hissed, blocking his way.

He glared furiously at me. "And what do you think _you're_ going to do?! You're not going to stop me. No one is!"

I didn't know what to do at that point. In a moment of desperation and anger, I blurted out without thinking, "I'll tell Dad."

Without warning, Paul grabbed my shoulders and slammed me into the blackboard. I was too stunned to cry out.

"You do that and you'll wish you'd never been _born_!" he snarled, baring his fangs. His manic eyes gleamed silver. "You think he can stop me? He won't be able to do anything, just like he couldn't do anything last time! Go home Anna! Go home and keep your mouth _shut_!"

"Get off of me!" I yelled, shocked. I raised my hands and powered up instantly. A beam of light hit him squarely in the chest and he let go, falling hard on his back.

But he shot to his feet, snarling. For a moment I thought he was going to attack me again, and I tensed, ready to stop him. Suddenly his eyes returned to normal and something in them softened. He swallowed a couple of times.

"Look what this is doing to you," I whispered. "Paul… just come home with me. Give me a chance to make you see how crazy this is."

He stared at me for a moment, looking sorry. "I'll come with you," he said softly. "But you're not going to change my mind."

"My God Paul, you're going to get yourself killed!"

"No, I won't! I'll be all right."

"Paul-"

He suddenly hugged me fiercely, surprising me with his sudden affection. "You were always such a worrier. This is exactly why I didn't tell you, why I couldn't…" His voice trailed off. "But how could I tell you anything anymore? With you making friends with Peace, on top of everything else?"

I became indignant. "Paul it was never-"

"Look, I just needed…I had to stay away from you for a while. I couldn't risk you finding out. Or him, for that matter. But now you do." He exhaled slowly. "What am I going to do about it now?"

I tried to pull away enough to look at his face, but he wouldn't let me. It didn't matter though because I knew my cousin. Paul wasn't sure what was going to happen- if he would survive or not. And he didn't seem to care.

He let me go at last. "You can't tell anyone, Anna. They'll only get in the way. They'll get hurt. You don't want that, do you?"

"Of course not. But I don't want you to get hurt either."

"It's already started. It can't be stopped now."

Exhaling sharply, I glared at him. "You're not going to do this. You're _not_."

Paul stared me down for a long time, not even blinking.

Finally he said, "I'll walk you home." He grabbed his book bag and walked out of the room. Warily, I followed him.

xxxxxxxxxx

Paul sat next to me on the bus, the first time he'd done so in weeks. Jana who'd recently been his bus seat partner, looked at him in confusion and blatant disapproval. Paul nodded to her once and she turned away, not completely appeased.

As the bus flew over the city of Maxville, I thought about what I could say or do to make him abandon this insane plan of his. I thought maybe once I got him home, I could debilitate him somehow and threaten him with the authorities if he didn't give it up.

A million plans went through my head and it wasn't until we stopped walking that I finally noticed that we were home.

"Anna?" my mom's voice called from upstairs.

"Yeah, I'm home. Paul's here too."

I heard my mom's footsteps coming down the stairs, a little too fast. Then there she was, wearing a rather dressy olive green blouse and black pants.

"Paul- hello there stranger! I thought you'd given up on visits." My mom looked surprised but pleased to see him.

"Hi Aunt Diane. Yeah, sorry about that. I've been busy," he said, giving her a sheepish but affectionate smile.

"Well you're here now, that's all that matters. You'll have to excuse me, I'm just out the door. I'm meeting your father at your grandmother's, so we'll be home very late tonight. There are some mini pizzas in the fridge if you guys are hungry. You'll have to eat one of the TV dinners tonight, Anna."

"No problem. Thanks Mom."

"Thanks Aunt Diane."

The moment she was gone, Paul's smile faded and a blankness replaced it. I asked him a little hesitantly, "You hungry?" It sounded so ridiculous as soon as it came out of my mouth, given the enormity of the situation. But I needed any form of normalcy I could get.

"No," he said shortly and turning away, went upstairs to my room. I followed him. Once we were inside I turned to him, resolute.

"When are you planning to do this?" I asked him straight out.

"Soon."

"How soon?"

He paused for a moment, then said, "Two days."

"Two days?! For goodness sake-"

His face was hard. "I have to do this Anna."

"You don't _have_ to do _anything_!" I practically screamed, losing my temper.

"Look, who are you really worried about?!" he retorted, losing his. "Me, or Barron Battle?"

I hesitated. I suddenly realized I was worried about _both_ of them. I didn't want Paul to get hurt, but I also didn't want anything to happen to my father's enemy either. Whatever he'd done, he was still a human being.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt. Period."

"Oh, he won't get hurt. He's going to die."

"Don't you realize what you're saying? What you sound like? What makes you any different from him?!"

"I have a reason!"

"I'm sure he thought his reasons were pretty damn good too."

"How can you be taking his side even now?" Paul raged. "Do you think Uncle Charles is the only one he hurt? Lisa's mother is dead because of him!"

That stopped me for a moment. "What?"

Lisa's mom was a sidekick, Rebecca Kline. She tried to stop Barron Battle from bringing down the Maxville City Bridge. She didn't survive."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Right. You never bothered about the 'whys', did you?"

I ignored his last statement. "And what about Jana? What's her part in this?"

Paul let out a dry laugh. "Jana…she must have had it worse than any of us. Both her parents were Heroes. George and Paola Vega. Paola is just…messed up in the head now. She's barely in the real world half the time. George is dead. It was at his funeral that Jana first powered up, when she first realized what she could do."

"Oh God…" The implications of that were too horrible to picture, which meant I could picture it all too clearly. Jana, wanting her dad to come back so much, that she… I gave an involuntary shudder.

"So now you know. Still think Barron Battle should be allowed to live?"

"Yes," I told him solidly. "I do."

Paul was furious. "Anna, you're impossible!"

"Will you shut up and listen! I don't want my cousin to be a murderer! I couldn't ever look at you the same way again if you did that. Don't you see? This won't make you a Hero- you'd be no better than any of the prisoners in there, no better than Battle! It won't bring their parents back. It'll just land all three of you in prison for the rest of your lives. Is he worth that?"

"It's the perfect plan. No one will know it was us. Not unless you tell someone," he added with narrowed eyes.

"I wouldn't have to. They'd find out the truth one way or another. Paul, this is a suicide mission, plain and simple. It couldn't possibly end well, even if you did manage to kill him. You'd be going against the authorities, everything a Hero stands for. You'd be going against yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"You, Paul. _You'd_ know what you did. Do you think you can live with that, killing a man who was already paying for his crimes? Is that the kind of Hero you want to be?"

Paul turned his heated gaze to the floor and as he did so, the realization came to me. I'd have to stop him by any means necessary. Even though Paul was a better fighter than I was, I could use the element of surprise. I'd overpower him, make him unconscious somehow and then get help, someone who'd believe me. I had to. Seeing my cousin like this, I knew that I didn't have a choice. My hands slowly started to warm as I began to power up….

Suddenly Paul's head snapped up and I powered down in the blink of an eye. But to my surprise, Paul's eyes were brimming. Slowly, he made his way to the edge of my bed and sat down. "Anna, I don't know… I can't stop this. Not now" But for the first time, he sounded unsure.

Inadvertently, I lowered my hands. "But you can Paul. Just don't do it. Please Paul. Please. Think of your mom and dad. Think of _my_ dad."

"Just…stop?" Paul gazed at me with an almost beseeching expression. "Why should I?"

"Because you're stronger than this. Revenge is the stuff of villains. You don't want any part of it. Trust me."

I was standing before him now, my hands on his shoulders. His face reflected some kind of internal struggle. I stared at him and waited, not daring to breathe.

The silence seemed to last forever. Then finally, he sighed heavily. His eyes looked sad, lost, but then he looked at me and suddenly he was Paul again. He mumbled, "I'll go talk to Jana and Lisa. I'll tell them what you said."

"But are you going to give up on this plan?" I asked desperately. "Talking to them isn't enough, Paul. I need your word that you won't do this."

Paul didn't answer and he wouldn't look at me.

"Look at me," I murmured, holding his face and forcing him to meet my eyes. "You have to promise me this. You _have_ to."

My cousin gazed at me, slightly glassy-eyed. Then he said in a somewhat dull tone, "I promise."

I watched him carefully for a little while. Then I exhaled slowly and put my arms around him.

Reluctantly, he hugged me back.

"I'm sorry Paul," I whispered.

And I truly was. Because I knew….Paul giving up his plan, his tears, his promises, all of it... was a lie.

xxxxxxxx

It was getting dark. Paul was quiet. So was I. As I watched him worrying the edge of my bedspread, I kept thinking about how he had lied to me all of this time. For the past two weeks I'd tried to get through to him, tried to…fix him, like I'd done so many times in the past. But it was all for nothing. He wasn't the Paul I knew anymore, the one whom I grew up with and looked up to my whole life.

And looking into his dark, hollow looking eyes, I wondered…if the Paul I'd known my whole life wasn't the biggest lie of all.

"Anna?" Paul's voice broke through my thoughts.

Coming back to the present I looked up at him, giving him a forced sympathetic smile.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him.

"I'm all right." Sighing, he stood up. "It's getting late. I'm going to head home. And I still have to talk to Jana and Lisa, get them to understand."

I was furious at his words. I wanted to shake him, make him admit the truth. But I struggled to remain calm. "All right. I'll come and see you tomorrow. Don't worry Paul, it'll all work out. You'll see."

Paul looked at me warmly, but he didn't smile. "Yeah. I hope so. Goodbye Anna."

"Goodbye Paul," I said softly, trying to keep the break out of my voice.

Paul left the room. A few seconds later I heard the front door slam.

I waited until I could gather my thoughts into something that resembled coherence. Then I got up and went to the phone. I dialed a number.

"Hello, Arrian residence."

"Dad?"

"Annie! Hi, what's up?"

"Dad…it's about Paul."

My father's voice immediately became more serious. "What about Paul? What's wrong?"

"I think he's… no…I _know_ he's -" I stopped and sighed heavily. I didn't know how to say it.

"Annie, what is it?" Dad's voice sounded almost agitated. "Has Paul done something?"

" _No_ …I mean, not really. Look, how soon will you be home?"

"I'm at Grandma's, honey. I'm waiting for your mother to get here- even if I left now, I won't be home for at least a few hours. Anna, just tell me. What's wrong with Paul? Has he done something?"

"It's-don't worry about, okay? I'll talk to you about it when you get home. It's not something we can discuss over the phone, not properly. It can wait."

"Are you sure? If it's important, you should tell me."

"When you get home," I insisted. There was no point in worrying him when he was too far away to do anything.

"I won't be home until late-"

"I'll wait up for you. It's a Friday night, remember?"

My father gave a chuckle but it sounded strained. "Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks Dad. See you later."

I hung up. There was nothing else I could do at the moment. I'd wait till my father got home, tell him what Paul was going to do and let him deal with it. There was nothing more I could do for my cousin. He'd made his choice.

As I waited for my parents to get home I decided to keep myself occupied with something, anything to keep me from losing it completely. I idly scribbled down some homework for a few minutes. Then I nuked a bowl of macaroni for dinner, settled myself on the couch and stared listlessly at a game show on the television.

I finally gave up on the TV and switched it off. I knew there no escaping it. I wouldn't be able to rest until it was all resolved one way or another. Miserably, I just let myself play the whole scenario again in my head. All the lies he'd told me and the cold empty look in his eyes, as if nothing else in the world seemed to matter except the terrible, terrible thing he wanted to do …

I sat straight up, suddenly going cold as something was made clear to me.

I scrambled for the phone. Breathless, I dialed Paul's number. I prayed for him to answer the phone.

It rang only once before someone picked up, though by this time I was a wreck.

"Hello?"

"Aunt Nia? Is Paul there?" I asked, my voice on the edge of hysteria.

"Wha- is something the matter, Anna?" my aunt sounded worried.

"Huh? Uh, no. No, sorry."

"Well, it's just that it's kind of late, and you sound very upset-"

"I'm fine, I'm fine- is Paul there?" I interrupted.

"No Anna, he isn't," Aunt Nia said, sounding mildly annoyed now. "He went to a late night movie with some friends-"

"What friends?"

"Um…the Scott Read boy I think, and a couple of others. Honey, if you're upset that he didn't invite you, don't be. You know how boys are, they want their bonding time…"

She was still talking, but I'd stopped listening. My mind raced. Scott Read was one of the boys from Paul's neighborhood a few blocks away. Paul and I knew him well enough, but the thing was, Paul never hung out with him before. Scott was just an average boy with no superpowers at all and therefore nothing to make Paul even remotely interested in being his friend. It made no sense.

"Aunt Nia?" I suddenly interrupted as she was rambling on. "Did Scott come over to the house?"

"What? No, Paul went over to his place. Why?"

"I have to go Aunt Nia. Goodnight," I said shortly as I hung up, staring into space. The cold realization finally sunk in, but I had to be sure. Calling Information, I got Scott's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Read, this is Anna Arrian. I'm a friend of Scott's. I'm sorry to be calling so late, but I was just wondering what time Scott would be coming back home from the movies."

"Movies? Scott didn't go to the movies. He's right here watching TV. Would you like to speak with him?"

I hung up, staring at the phone for about five seconds. There was no doubt in my mind now.

Paul had played me yet again. His lies had gone far deeper than I realized. The plan wasn't going to be executed in two days.

It was happening tonight.

In a rush, I made one more call. It was the only person I could think of who might be able to help on such short notice. Dad was just too far away to get here in time.

A familiar voice answered, husky with sleep. "Hello?"

"Warren, it's Anna," I said in a rush. "Your father- he's in danger."


	12. Heroes vs. Villains? (Pt.1)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Twelve- Heroes vs. Villains? (Pt.1)**

I tried to tell Warren about Paul's plan but I don't think I made much sense. Warren however, got the gist of it.

"I'll be over there in ten minutes."

As soon as I hung up, I hastily put on my sneakers and went outside to wait for him. Standing on the front porch, a million horrible scenarios flashed in my head- what Paul would do if we were too late….

The street was dark; one of the lamplights directly in front on my house had gone out. It had just rained; the streets were slick and wet. For some reason it gave me the creeps, standing alone out there in the dark. Where was Warren?

In the dark some distance away, was a small flash of fire. Warren suddenly appeared out of nothingness it seemed, a little flame dancing eerily in his hand. He was warmly dressed, a black coat with a matching snowcap. Not that he needed it, I thought, shivering.

"Too dark here," he muttered, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Sorry about that. The light never works…" I faltered, as Warren gave me a look. I was stalling, and he knew it.

"What's he done?" he asked me quietly.

"He said…he's going to kill your dad," I said softly.

Warren didn't move or say anything, but I could almost feel his rage…and rising panic.

"Damn your cousin," he whispered furiously at last. "He's done some insane things in the past, but this-"

"Warren, he's not himself-"

"Would you _stop_ making excuses for him?!" he snapped at me so harshly, I fell silent. My shoulders sagged; he was right. What was the point?

"Where is he now?" he asked me urgently.

"I- I don't know for sure. But I can guess."

"We have to follow him. We have to stop him."

"How?" I had no clue where exactly the prison was, far less how to get there.

Warren nodded over his shoulder. A black and somewhat beat-up looking car was parked at the end of my street. He had driven here.

"I'll take us there," he said somberly.

xxxx

It was roughly an hour's drive to Maxville's Correctional Facility but Warren was going to cut that time in half, he informed me, as he pressed down harder on the gas pedal.

We didn't speak for a few minutes, staring at the orange pools of light that danced over our heads.

After awhile, I finally broke the silence. "What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"When we get there. What are we going to do about them….about Paul?"

Warren kept his eyes on the road, the buildings going by in a blur. "What would _you_ do, in my place? You know what? Forget that. What do you _think_ we should do?"

I didn't reply right away. I thought about how much my cousin had changed and how far he was willing to go to achieve his ends. I felt the tears coming on but I blinked them away furiously. I whispered in a firm voice, "Whatever we have to."

Even as I spoke these words, I felt terrified. "But even so, we have to try our best not to hurt anyone. I don't know about the others, but Paul isn't in his right mind right now- he can't be. Even when we were kids, he'd do things that he didn't mean-"

"Like _this_?" Warren suddenly yelled. "Like trying to kill my dad?" He threw me a frustrated glance.

I didn't have an answer for that. All I could manage was, "At least…let me try to talk to him first."

Warren didn't answer. He continued to stare straight ahead in silence.

I looked out of the window hopelessly. I noticed then that the buildings- the shops, local houses- became fewer and farther between. Then they stopped altogether. Instead I saw trees, tall dark trees lining both sides of the road, all melting into a dark blur. There was not much else to see.

"Where exactly is this place?"

"Don't you know?" Warren asked sarcastically. "I'd have thought your father would have told you exactly where all the bad guys go."

"Don't be like that," I said irritably. "Just tell me."

Warren glanced dully at me. "It's a few miles south, just outside of Maxville. In the middle of nowhere."

Through the haze of my terror, a question came to me- Did he come to this place often? I very nearly asked it, but changed my mind at the last minute. Now wasn't a good time. We spent the next fifteen minutes in silence.

"Are we close?"

"Closer than you think."

I followed his gaze. A huge gray building loomed ahead. It looked like a typical prison- impossibly high walls, crowned with barbed wire, huge lights glaring into every corner. But I knew looks could be deceiving- this place was anything but typical.

"We're here," Warren said softly.

xxxxxxxx

We parked the car a good distance away from Maxville's Correctional Facility for Super Villains and made our way towards the building.

"How can we be sure they're there?" I asked quietly.

"We'll find out," Warren said shortly.

"But _how_? And how do we get in if they are?"

"I don't _know_ , Arrian," Warren said impatiently. "But if they got in, then so can we."

We were almost there. But we didn't go out into the open. Instead, we stayed discreetly among the trees about three hundred yards away.

"Warren," I whispered, "I don't know how we can- wait a sec. What's wrong with the guards?"

Warren squinted at the gate. The guards were patrolling, walking back and forth in front of it. But their movements were mechanical, stiff, like…"

"Zombies?" I murmured, horrified.

"Jana. She killed them," Warren realized. "And now she's pulling their strings. Giving the impression that nothing's wrong, or close enough."

"Does that mean we can get through? Will they be able to see us?"

"I don't think so. But Jana might. Some necromancers can see through the eyes of the dead."

I felt impatient and time was running out. "There has to be some way we can get in."

"I think at this point we can rule out the front entrance. But we can still try to keep as low key as possible. Follow me and _keep_ _close_."

Warren moved along through the trees along the borders of the premises and I followed him. We walked and walked until we came to what looked like the back of the facility. There were more guards here, but it seemed as if Jana had gotten to them too- They stood at attention, staring blankly into nothingness.

Unlike the front of the prison there were no high walls. But there was a tall chain link fence, also topped with barbed wire.

Warren quickly shot out of the trees; I was close behind, my heart pounding mercilessly. We ran straight for the fence, some yards away from the back gate, but Warren was ready. A large fireball appeared in his hand. He chucked it at the fence, near the ground.

I tensed at the loud noise the impact made, glancing at the guards who were some distance away. They didn't so much as flinch.

"Arrian, come _on_!" Warren hissed at me, already halfway through the large gaping hole in the fence.

Once we were both through the opening we raced straight on towards the building, finally diving beneath a truck that was parked close by.

"What now?" I whispered heavily.

"We find them," he whispered back.

"Warren, this place is huge. We'll most likely get caught before we find any of them."

"No we won't," he said softly staring ahead and the expression on his face made me sure that he already had a plan.

"What are you thinking?"

"Cell block 493 is in the East Wing. It's not far. I know how to get there."

I blinked at him. "How do you-"

"Just stay close and don't make any noise. We'll have to be extra careful- there'll probably be some people that haven't met up with Reaper Girl."

The corridors were brightly lit, too much so. At any second I expected to encounter a guard, to be caught in a place we were not meant to be.

But we saw no one and for some reason, this frightened me even more.

"How much further?" I murmured, in a voice lower than a whisper.

"Not much," Warren answered back just as quietly, as we turned a corner. "Only we have to-"

He stopped talking and halted to a standstill.

"What-" I began.

"Shhh," he said softly.

I looked over his shoulder. Near the end of the hall, a door stood open. I didn't know much about Maxville's Correctional Facility, but one thing I was certain of- doors didn't just hang open unattended in a place like this.

"Quiet," Warren mouthed the word to me as he went forward silently.

We walked forward warily, but quickly enough. The room beyond was the first one we saw that was poorly lit. Inside, there were computers, closed circuit televisions and other machines I couldn't identify. On the televisions we could see the many corridors and rooms in the prison. Guards were patrolling some of these, but it was easy to identify who were alive and who weren't. Warren ran his hands across the top of one of the computers, looking thoughtful.

"Someone's supposed to be in here," I said. "Monitoring these things. Where are they?"

"They're taking a nap," a voice said out of the darkness and Warren and I whirled round.

Lisa Kline stood before us, her face oddly serene, but her eyes were shining with anger and hatred.

"Lisa," Warren growled, "Whatever your part in this, it ends right now."

"Listen," I said urgently, as she visibly tensed, "You don't have to do this. Regardless of Paul's threats, we can help. We won't let him hurt you."

Lisa broke into a huge manic grin, then laughed. "Wow, Anna. You really do eat up that angst-ridden teen act, don't you?"

I didn't catch on to her meaning at first. But then it hit me. "What you said about Paul threatening you-"

"Paul _threaten_ me? Hardly. Seriously, Anna- are you really as stupid as all that? Who do you think set this all up?"

For several moments, no one said anything as Lisa's words sunk in.

Finally, I managed to whisper, "Oh my god."

I couldn't believe it. Neither could Warren it seemed; he kept shaking his head slowly, staring at Lisa with sheer incredulity. "You're the one who instigated all of this?!"

"Did you really think he could come up with this on his own?" she snapped. "Oh he had the drive, believe me. But in the end, he needed a little persuasion to go the extra mile. Also someone who could plan worth a damn helped."

"Listen to me," I said. "I know what Barron Battle did to your mom. And I know that you feel you have to avenge her. But do you really think this is what she'd have wanted?"

"I _know_ this is what she'd have wanted!" Lisa said furiously, raising her hands. "And I'll kill you before I let you ruin everything!"

Seeing Lisa's sudden reaction, we both powered up immediately, but it was too late. Warren was suddenly thrown back, slamming hard into the wall. I made to shield her incoming attack but I was a second slower. The next thing I knew, I was pitched across the room, crashing into several machines.

Bright lights exploded in my head, glaring behind my eyes painfully. I shook my head, groaning as I made to get up.

"Those remedial classes sure paid off, didn't they?" Lisa said, laughing as she walked toward me.

"No!" I cried out, as I felt myself being lifted off the ground. Suddenly I dropped to the floor.

Looking up, I saw Warren trying to restrain her. It didn't last long. Lisa sent him flying, suddenly stopping him in midair.

Before she could turn her attention to me again I raised my open palms to her, shooting forth a jet of light. She was knocked off her feet, but even then she tried to use her telekinetic power against us. I felt a wave of energy begin to push me back, but I was ready this time- I deflected it with my own light-force.

Warren fell to the floor. He shot to his feet and lunged toward her. With a sweep of her arm, he flew back, crashing over a table and fell out of sight.

"Warren-!" Suddenly I couldn't talk. I felt something clench around my throat. She was cutting off my air supply. I raised my right arm, trying to stop her. But her hold on me tightened violently. I clutched at my neck. Gasping and choking, I fell to the floor. The dancing lights behind my eyes flashed brighter than ever. But not for long. A growing darkness slowly overwhelmed the world around me. I was falling down, down into the dark….

"You should have stayed at home Anna," Lisa's voice came out through the gathering blackness. "Now what am I going to tell Paul, hmm? I guess I'll just say that you had a little… accident. After all, he'd never believe that poor, sweet, innocent Lisa would actually _kill_ anyone."

"Don't worry, you won't," said another voice.

Suddenly I could breathe again. I rolled onto my back ad gasped for air, though it was pure agony to do so. Slowly I sat up, struggling to stay conscious. Looking up, I saw Warren kneeling over Lisa with a large fireball in his hand dangerously close to her face. His eyes were blazing, his teeth clenched- he could barely contain his anger. Slowly, he raised his arm- Lisa's eyes widened in alarm.

"Warren, _no_!" I choked out, coughing with the effort. "She's not worth it."

"Like hell she isn't!"

"Listen to her Warren," Lisa said breathlessly. "You're not a villain." Her lips curled into a slight grin. "You wouldn't really hurt me, would you?"

Warren glared at her, yet uncertainty flickered across his features for a split second. Then he seemed to come to a decision.

"Think again," he said shortly. The fireball disappeared. He punched her in the face. She fell back, out cold.

Warren came over and helped me to my feet. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," I said hoarsely.

I came over, staggering a little. Lisa's face looked oddly serene. A nasty looking purple bruise was already forming under her right eye.

Warren stood up and went over to the remaining closed circuit televisions. He looked them over as if he was searching for something. Suddenly, he pointed to one of them.

"There," he said. "That's where we have to go. That's where my dad is."

I looked at the small screen. It showed a narrow corridor. At the end of it stood a tall door. It looked harmless, completely untouched.

"They're already there," he said softly.

I glanced at him curiously. "How can you tell?"

"There aren't any guards. There are always guards."

"Well… let's go," I said. My voice sounded strange to my own ears. I wanted to get there immediately, to stop Paul and Jana…


	13. Heroes vs. Villains? (Pt.2)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.  
  
Chapter Thirteen- Heroes vs. Villains? (Pt.2)**  
  
Cell block 493 was closer than I'd thought it would be. On the way there we ran into two guards who were obviously under Jana's influence. They shuffled along the corridor and there was no place to hide. We stopped, frozen as they made their way toward us and…passed right by.  
  
"They can't see us," Warren whispered softly as he watched them leave.  
  
"I don't even think they can hear us, with all the noise we made back there," I whispered back.  
  
We reached the end of the corridor. Warren stood against the wall and peered around the corner. Silently I crept closer, looking out below him.  
  
It was just as the closed circuit television had shown. A simple, harmless looking door: silent, yet strangely foreboding.  
  
There was no door knob and no handle. I put my hand against it and pushed. It wouldn't budge.  
  
"How do we get in?" I whispered.  
  
Without a word, Warren pulled out a small, thin metal rod from his pocket. He lightly stroked the front of the door. There was a small almost imperceptible click.  
  
I gaped at him. "Where did you-"  
  
"Lifted it off of one of the guards. Now get ready," he murmured.  
  
I knew what he meant- I powered up immediately.  
  
"On three," he mouthed to me.  
  
 _One. Two. Three._  
  
Warren pushed open the door. It swung in silently. I didn't know what to expect as we walked inside- but it certainly wasn't this.  
  
It was so dark I had to dim my light so I could see better. We were in a very small sparsely furnished room. There was a little table with a couple of books lying on it and a chair. There was also a shelf, filled with more books. There were no barred windows, like on TV- there were no windows at all. Straight ahead another door stood, a regular door. It was closed but I heard voices. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized Paul's.  
  
I rushed towards the room, but Warren caught me by the shirt so suddenly I almost tumbled.  
  
"No," he mouthed urgently.  
  
Angrily, I shook him off and made to go again. But again, he grabbed me.  
  
"Wait," he bit the word out silently. Slowly, quietly, he walked toward the door with me in tow, not trusting me enough to let me go. It was too dark inside to see anything, but the voices were clearer than ever.  
  
"So is this what you've come here to do?" said an unfamiliar but strangely amused voice, and I heard Warren give a sharp intake of breath. I knew immediately who it was.  
  
"Like you don't deserve it," Paul's voice whispered and I could almost feel the hatred that emanated from it. Shrugging off Warren's hand, I no longer felt the need to storm in there. At that moment I felt frozen to that spot- it seemed that nothing in the world could move me from that place.  
  
"You think you two are the only ones I've wronged?" I heard Battle say. I noticed then that his voice sounded labored, as if he was having trouble breathing. In the dark I glanced at Warren to see if he had noticed as well. He was shaking, but looked as if he was trying to suppress it. It seemed he couldn't move either.  
  
"It doesn't matter!" Jana suddenly shouted. Her voice sounded distorted, inhumanly low. "And after tonight, neither will you."  
  
"You won't kill me," Battle said. "You can't bring yourself to do it."  
  
"Are you kidding me? What the hell do you think I've done to you the past several times?"  
  
"But you always bring me back, don't you? When it comes to it, you can't kill me…properly."  
  
"Maybe she can't. But I can." Paul's voice sounded closer than ever. "I just let Jana get it out of her system. Then as soon as Lisa gets here, she can have a crack at you. But in the end, I'll be the last thing you'll ever see."  
  
The sudden flash of anger in Warren's eyes made me ready. He shot past, with me right behind him. We burst into the room, powers activated and ready.  
  
Unlike the previous room, there was a window in here- covered in some kind of strange colored glass. Orange light from the buildings outside shone on the whole scene. It looked as if a tornado had ripped through the place- broken shelves, torn sheets, everything was turned upside down. Paul and Jana were standing over the prostrate figure I knew to be Barron Battle. The man had a solid build, like Warren. Yet somehow he seemed fragile looking and I couldn't place why until my eyes adjusted to the shadows.  
  
He was hurt badly. There were deep wounds in his side, which he clutched at feebly; it didn't stop the bleeding. He was deathly pale, yet there was a strange smile on his lips as he looked upon Warren- a smile that sent a tremor through me.  
  
Paul and Jana had changed. Jana's eyes were completely black- dark veins were stark against her whiter- than-white temples. Paul had become the more sinister side of himself- his grey skin looked eerie in the pale orange glow that covered everything; silver eyes blinked in surprise at our sudden appearance. But what stood out more than everything else was the blood. It streaked their faces, stained their arms, covered their clothes. My previous light-headedness from Lisa's attack was coming back to me. What had they done to him?  
  
"Get away from him!" Warren growled. He took a step forward, but Paul reached down and clutched Battle's throat.  
  
"One more move and I snap his neck right now!" Paul shouted. Warren immediately backed down, but didn't take his hate-filled eyes away from my cousin.  
  
"Paul, don't!" I cried, panicking. We had stepped into a proper nightmare; Paul on the brink of committing murder; Jana eyeing Warren and myself with more than a little bloodlust; Barron Battle half conscious and slowly bleeding to death, still with that perturbing smile on his face.  
  
"Let me kill them," Jana said smoothly. "Make a clean job of it."  
  
"No," Paul said at once. The look he gave me was a mixture of anger, betrayal and surprisingly, distress.  
  
I could feel Warren growing increasingly impatient beside me. I had to keep them talking, until I could figure a way to end this.  
  
"Paul," I said as softly and encouragingly as I could, "Please…just step away from him. Don't do this."  
  
But Paul shook his head vehemently. "No, I'm not backing down Anna! The best thing you can do is leave."  
  
"Don't think for a second that I'm going anywhere-"  
  
"Just let me kill them!" Jana's eyes glinted. She took another step forward, one hand outstretched toward us. "All I need is one touch…"  
  
"You bring that hand any closer and I'll burn it clean off!" Warren's eyes were darting back and forth between Jana, Paul and his father. I watched Barron Battle closely- he didn't look good at all. I had to do something.  
  
"Stay back Jana," Paul ordered.  
  
"They'll interfere!" Jana protested. "Once Lisa gets here-"  
  
"I said, stay back!"  
  
"Oh, Lisa isn't coming. Trust me."  
  
Jana blinked at Warren's words. She was about to say something but thought better of it. She glanced resentfully at Paul, but stayed where she was.  
  
Paul turned his silver gaze to me. "So this is what it comes to, Anna? Going against your own family, to join him?"  
  
"Who I joined has nothing to do with it-"  
  
"It has _everything_ to do with it!"  
  
"No Paul!" I was screaming now- furious at him, at everything he'd done. "I'm not the one who's changed! Look at you! You've lost everything we've ever stood for!"  
  
"You're wrong," Paul snapped. His hands grew tighter around Battle's neck.  
  
Immediately Warren made to move, but I quickly stepped in front of him. "Anna," he said in a warning tone but I shook my head, indicating that he give me a chance.  
  
"Paul," I said quietly, "Move away. You're not going to kill him. I won't let you."  
  
Paul wouldn't budge. His eyes were filled with anger, holding onto mine.  
  
"I said move away, Paul. I know Lisa and Jana got to you. But you can't do this anymore. Understand that it's over. It's all over."  
  
For a moment, everyone fell silent. All that could be heard was the shallow breathing of Warren's father, whose eyes were now closed. Paul swallowed once, twice, his face revealing…nothing.  
  
Then suddenly he stood up straight, letting go of Barron Battle who slumped heavily to the floor. His expression became clear, filled with determination and an apparent sanity which, I came to realize, wasn't sanity at all.  
  
"You are not my cousin," he whispered hatefully.  
  
He lunged at me. Warren immediately hurled a fireball at him, but he missed- Paul was moving ridiculously fast. In my initial shock, I powered up too late. Paul caught me hard across the jaw and I went down. I heard Warren give a sharp cry and the impact of several fireballs; Jana was screaming in unrestrained fury.  
  
Paul bashed my head against the ground once. Before he could do it a second time, I punched him with all the force in my body. I heard a dull crack; Paul roared in pain and anger. Light burst from my hands and I aimed it towards him. But he grabbed my wrist, and it flew out wildly. He struck me again with an open palm and this time his nails caught my left cheek, slashing my face. I screamed, sending out another jet of light which hit him directly. It propelled him clear across the room. Paul crashed into the bed frame nearby, destroying it completely. He tried to get up again but to my surprise, sank bank onto the floor.  
  
I got up quickly, spitting out blood and wiping it from the gashes in my face. Warren and Jana were still at it- flashes of fire mingled with a dark shadow which seemed to be emanating from Jana. In the fluctuating light I saw the limp form of Barron Battle, too close to where they were fighting. I went to him and turned him over. Before he could get caught in any crossfire, I pulled him to the far side of the wall where he'd be safe.  
  
Battle was in bad shape. His clothes were partially torn and he was bleeding a lot more than I'd previous thought. I grabbed a sheet that was nearby and rolled it up, placing it under his head. Slowly, he looked up at me. And I gazed into the eyes of my family enemy, the one who began all of this.  
  
"You look familiar," he murmured weakly.  
  
"I guess I would. You hurt my dad," I said tonelessly.  
  
He gave a short laugh, coughing as he did so. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that, little girl."  
  
Suddenly I was wrenched backward. I lost my balance and fell as Paul threw me to the ground. He immediately turned to Battle and reached down for him, murder blazing in his eyes.  
  
I threw a surge of light, knocking him sideways. But he was back on his feet in an instant, snarling viciously.  
  
For the first time in my life, I no longer recognized my cousin. He had made himself into a creature, a monster. My light blazed protectively in front of me, but I was petrified. Of what he'd done, of what he might do.  
  
I heard an explosion and felt the ground shake. I didn't want to take my eyes off of Paul, but I couldn't help myself.  
  
Warren was standing over Jana who was lying on the floor. Her eyes were partly open, but unseeing. Her right arm was horribly burnt and blackened, from the top of her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. She didn't move.  
  
"No," I whispered. "Warren, what have you-"  
  
"She's not dead," Warren murmured. He nudged her sharply with his foot. She gave a low jerky gasp, her body convulsing in pain. Warren turned a dark gaze to Paul. "Are you going to give up?"  
  
Paul took two slow careful steps towards him, swiftly glancing at me. "You'll have to kill me first."  
  
Warren raised his arms, fire blazing. "Fine," he said shortly.  
  
"No! Paul-"  
  
"Don't you dare talk to me!" Paul bellowed. "You are nothing, Anna!"  
  
Warren couldn't contain himself any longer. In an instant, a fireball was heading straight for Paul but I deflected it with a burst of light energy. It hit a small shelf nearby, shattering it into pieces. Warren gave a yell of anger and glared at me, before rushing Paul. They smashed into the wall. Jana, who had managed to prop herself against it, dove out of the way.  
  
I tried to get a clear shot at Paul but it was impossible- I risked hurting Warren as well. He scorched Paul badly on the leg and Paul slugged him just above the left temple. Warren stumbled backward, stunned. He barely recovered before he was sent flying. He shook his head trying to clear it, when Paul moved to attack again.  
  
I made a snap decision. With a cry, I tackled Paul violently. We fell to the floor. Recovering, Paul snatched up a piece of the broken shelf and aimed it at my throat.  
  
He was going to kill me.  
  
In a great panic, I sent forth a burst of light more powerful than anything I thought I was capable of. It struck Paul and he flew backwards, landing hard in the debris that was once a bed. Too hard.  
  
Everything was still; no one moved. Then slowly, Paul raised his head and looked up at me with an expression of vague confusion. At first, I didn't notice anything odd about him. Then I saw it: the dampness that blossomed on his shirt…around the broken wooden stick protruding from his chest.  
  
No. No. No. No. No.  
  
It was a dream. A terrible nightmare. It had to be. In a sickening daze, I rushed over to his side. Dimly, as if from a thousand miles away, I was aware of Warren and Jana shouting something. But I couldn't care about that.  
  
Paul had changed back to his regular form. He didn't take his gaze away from me, still with that dazedly confused look on his face. He tried to say something in between gasps which were becoming increasingly difficult.  
  
Jana was in shock. She dragged herself from where she lay to Paul's side. She whispered in a horrified voice, "What have you done? What have you done?!"  
  
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry- it's going to be okay. I'll fix this, I'll fix it, I swear," I said in a rush. Turning to Warren I screamed, "Get help!"  
  
Warren immediately ran out of the room to the door beyond. I saw him press the metal rod against it. But nothing happened. He tried it a few more times, but it wouldn't open.  
  
"Won't work son," Barron Battle called out weakly. "Key's useless from the inside."  
  
Desperately, Warren began slamming his body against the door, futile as it was. Finally he shouted in frustration, slamming his fists against it. He wouldn't turn around.  
  
Paul starting gasping harder now, which made me freak out even more. "No! There has to be a way out of here!" I yelled. Not knowing what else to do, I tried to pull the stick out. Paul cried out.  
  
"Don't!" Jana shrieked. "He'll bleed to death!"  
  
"He's bleeding to death now!" I cried, but instantly regretted it- Paul gripped my arm feebly, the confusion now gone and a desperation replacing it.  
  
"Anna…." His voice broke heavily on the word.  
  
"Shh, it's going to be all right, I'll fix it- just hold on, oh God please, I'm so sorry-"  
  
"Anna-" he struggled to say the words, "I…can't…"  
  
He suddenly stopped. Slowly, he lay back and went still. His deep brown eyes remained staring at me, frozen in an expression he could no longer feel.  
  
I stared back at him, completely numb. Then gently, I rested his head against my shoulder and held him in my arms, stroking his hair softly. But it wasn't me. There was no way it was me. It was another girl losing her cousin, the one she'd known and loved all her life. Everything that was happening, must be happening to someone else. It had to be. It had to be.  
  
But Jana's sobs broke through my shock and denial. And struck me with an idea.  
  
"Jana! You can fix it- you can bring him back! Do it, Jana! Bring him back!" My voice sounded hysterical to my own ears. Even so I was infuriated when Jana simply sat there, staring at me as if I'd lost my mind.  
  
"I'd never do that," she whispered slowly, shaking her head.  
  
"You have to!" I screamed at her, clutching Paul closer. "You have to!"  
  
"I can't!" Jana yelled just as loudly. "Don't you get it? He's gone. Even if I did make him alive again, it wouldn't be him. It'd just be me making him walk and talk. But there'd be nothing going on inside. I could never do that. Not to him."  
  
I just kept shaking my head. I couldn't understand. She'd brought other people back just fine; why wouldn't she do the same for him?  
  
Jana forced out the words through gritted teeth, "I didn't take his life. So I can't give it back to him. Not properly."  
  
"You're lying!" I burst out at last, after seething at her for several moments. I hated her, with everything I had. I didn't believe her- I wouldn't. I rocked back and forth, holding my cousin in my arms. Everything and everyone else was forgotten.  
  
Warren suddenly appeared and knelt beside me. I turned to him in tears, silently pleading for help that he couldn't give. He reached out and closed Paul's eyes. His face held a somber regret; he wouldn't look at me.  
  
In the terrible silence, a loud click was heard. Soon afterward Lisa Kline appeared at the door. She was flanked by several guards, all of whom looked very much alive. Her bruised face surveyed the scene- and her eyes rested on the one that I cradled in my arms.  
  
She stared at him for a couple more moments. Then she screamed.


	14. After Battle

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Fourteen- After Battle**

The guards immediately took us into custody except Barron Battle, who was led away on a stretcher. Before he was hauled off however, he reached out and gripped Warren's arm from where he lay.

"Warren." There was a strange urgency in his voice.

But Warren turned away from him with a pained expression. "Don't. Just don't," he said in a quiet voice.

Time sped up and slowed down at intervals, it seemed to me. Warren, Lisa and I were separated. Jana was taken to an ambulance due to the severe injuries to her arm. She was accompanied by several guards in what looked like hazmat suits. I don't know what happened to the others.

The police had come. They placed power-neutralizing steel bracelets round my wrists. A doctor came to treat my wounds. He told me I needed stitches for the three deep cuts on my face and then set to work. After the procedure I was taken to a room. They asked me dozens of questions, none of which I could register in my shock. It seemed to go on for hours; they appeared to ask the same things over and over again. I stared at the wall, saying nothing.

The next thing I knew, my father had come. His was the voice that finally got through:

"Anna what happened? Anna, you _have_ to tell these people what happened!"

But I couldn't answer. The grief was too much. The pain held my tongue- it was as if I had gone mute.

"Talk to me, honey. Please."

I said nothing. I blinked slowly at him, not caring if I ever returned to myself again.

My father glanced at the two policemen, worried. "What's wrong with my daughter?" he asked them quietly.

"We don't know, sir. She's been like that since we found them."

There was a knock at the door. One of the men, taller than the others, excused himself and went outside. Moments later, he returned and whispered something to the other man. Then the tall man said quietly, "Mr. Arrian, could I talk to you in private for a minute?"

My father nodded, trying to hide the obvious fear that was rising within him. They both left the room and again I lost track of the time- minutes, hours, I couldn't tell. Suddenly in the silence, I heard a voice cry out - my father's. I let out a little gasp. He knew.

He burst back into the room and took me by the shoulders, tears in his eyes.

"Oh god Anna, what did you do?" he cried, shaking me. "What did you _do_!"

It was the emotion in his voice that set me loose. I wrenched away from him, nearly stumbling into the wall. Suddenly I was speaking, was screaming at him:

" _I did what I_ had _to! What you've always told me to do! Stand up for the innocent, remember?! Because he_ was _Dad, even in jail doing his time, he_ was _innocent! And Paul wanted to do something so terrible, so awful and I had to stop him, only it came out all wrong! It came out so wrong! He stopped moving, and he wouldn't move again- he'll never move again! Because of_ me _, because I messed up! God, I'm sorry Dad- I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"_

I was on the floor, beyond grief. The tears blinded me- I wished they'd blind me forever. There was nothing left here but the dark and the knowledge that I'd killed the one who, even now, I regarded as the best friend I ever had.

It took some time to realize that my father was holding me as I lay on the ground. He made soothing noises that that comforted me very little. I no longer even tried to suppress the wail of pure agony that was spilling out of me. I wished silently, over and over, that Paul had been successful in our fight- and that I was the one who had died.

xxxxxxx

After the interminable interrogation, I was finally released from custody. Once they had my story and matched it with Warren's and Jana's accounts, my father said, they ruled Paul's death as self defense on my part.

I ran into Aunt Nia and Uncle Matthew standing outside the gates of the penitentiary amidst the flashing police cars. Her face was buried in Uncle Matthew's coat. She kept screaming, "It's not true! Oh god, it's not true!"

I stood there staring helplessly at them, horribly mesmerized by their grief. Finally my father took hold of my wrist and tugged gently.

"Come on, Anna," he said softly.

My father half-led, half-carried me to his car. I wondered if my aunt and uncle would ever speak to me again.

When I got home my mother was waiting for us. She met us at the door, numbly taking my dad's coat. For a long time she didn't meet my eyes. And then finally, she did.

There was no disappointment. No anger. Not even sadness. She looked… _lost_ , like a little girl whose parent was no longer beside her in a crowd. She glanced at my father, then back at me, not knowing how to deal. Again, this was not her world. For a moment, I saw it in her eyes. I wasn't Anna her daughter, but Anna the super being who had killed someone in battle. It was a look she used to give my dad sometimes when he returned from a particularly brutal villainous encounter. It was more than I could bear. I needed her to see that she was wrong, that I was still the person she knew. I needed her to _be there_.

"Mom-"

"You should go upstairs and wash up, Anna. Then try to get some sleep." Her voice sounded automatic and held no warmth.

For the first time that night, I looked down. And saw the blood that stained my shirt. Some of it was mine, I knew. The rest…

I swallowed once. I tried not to freak out, but I was failing- my breath was coming out in short little sobs. But my dad held me, before my body could even think of collapsing.

"Come on, Annie. It's going to be all right." He helped me up the stairs and I held onto him tightly.

Hell was all around me that night. But at that moment, hearing my father call me Annie and having his reassuring arm round me made things just a little bit less terrible.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_**One Week Later.** _

"Anna dear, would you like some juice?"

"No, thank you."

"How about some food? I could bring you a sandwich, or-"

"I'm not hungry, Grandma."

She stood there for a moment more hesitating, then slowly walked away. Later, I heard her murmuring to someone, "It's really hard for the young ones when they lose someone so close to their age-"

 _Why didn't they understand that some things couldn't be fixed with sandwiches and juice?_ I wondered. I was tired of being around them, around the gloomy awkwardness. I walked out of the living room and into the hallway. Everyone had come back to Aunt Nia's and Uncle Matthew's house after the funeral. Aunt Nia was somewhere in the kitchen. I had only glimpsed her at the ceremony; she didn't see me and I didn't go to her. Uncle Matthew was bed-ridden: the whole experience was just too much for him.

I had refused to go at first. When my dad told me that my aunt really wanted to see me, I was terrified. How could she possibly want me there? I'd killed her son. But deep inside I felt I owed her whatever she asked of me. So I went.

By now, everyone I knew had heard of Paul's death. To the non-super members of my family and the regular citizens who had known my cousin, he was killed in a vehicular accident, a hit-and-run. But the superhero community knew the truth. Both sides called my house, (and Aunt Nia's I was told) with their condolences. Eventually I stopped answering the phone, locked myself in my room and didn't come out… until today.

So there I was, squirming uncomfortably in the itchy material of my formal black dress. As I tugged at my neck line for the hundredth time, I heard a quiet voice call out behind me, "Anna."

I gave a gasp. Oh god...Paul. But it was _impossible_. I whirled around, my heart beating fast-

"Oh- Aunt Nia!" I whispered. "I'm sorry. I thought you were…never mind."

"You thought I was…Paul." Aunt Nia's voice struggled with the last word. Her eyes were red and puffy and slightly watery. She choked out a short laugh, "Everyone says we sound so much alike… we _sounded_ so much alike…" Her voice trailed off.

For a while, neither of us knew what to say.

Then in a sudden rush of emotion, I half-whispered, "Aunt Nia… I am so _sorry_. I never meant for any of this to happen. Please don't hate me."

My aunt came over to me, her expression so intense that for a moment I thought she was going to hit me. She reached out and I flinched. But suddenly, I was in her arms- she was shaking.

"I don't hate you," she murmured, and her voice was thick with emotion. "Anna, I knew my son. I knew how he could be and what he was. I'd hoped… for a change. And for a little while, it seemed he had. Because of _you_. But I suppose in the end-" She gave a little sob. "I don't blame you Anna. None of us do."

Everyone was so brave at the ceremony that morning. No one cried, at least not openly. My mom and dad stayed with me, right up until the viewing-

No. No, I wasn't going to revisit that place again. I shook my head a little, refusing a slice of carrot cake that was offered to me for the fourth time.

There was a commotion in the corner. My aunt had broken down at last, sobbing fitfully. Gently, my parents and one of my second cousins helped her upstairs.

"Come on Nia," my mother murmured. "Just have a lie down for a while."

I suddenly felt as if I couldn't breathe properly. I had to get out of there, away from them all. Slowly, I backed out of the living room; into the hallway, through the door, onto the porch, down the steps-

They were calling my name, calling after me to come back. But I ignored them and kept going. I was running; running away from that house, from that street, from everything that reminded me of the fact that Paul was gone.

Only I couldn't run away from it. It was all around me, threatening to engulf me forever. Finally, I was too tired to run any further and I stopped. Panting, I waited to catch my breath. When I was able to breathe easier, I looked at my surroundings and realized where I was.

Home.


	15. "No One Ever Said It Would Be Easy..."

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.**

**Chapter Fifteen** _**and** _ **Epilogue- "No One Ever Said It Would Be Easy..."**

I was home. Or rather, the street that led home. I took off my black flats and carried them in my hand, slowly walking up the sidewalk with nothing but stockings covering my aching feet. I was tired, too tired to think, or cry, or do anything. It was the first time I felt something that close to normalcy in over a week.

It wasn't until I got to my house and was standing inside the gate did I notice that there was someone on the front porch.

It was Warren Peace. He was wearing a formal black shirt and matching pants. His hair was tied back, which made it easy to see the small cuts and bruises on his face. I knew I must not have looked any better. Being painfully reminded of the three long rows of stitches in my left cheek, I couldn't help but wince slightly.

When he saw me, he stood up straighter. His face was grave, reflecting a hollowness that I felt. He had been there at the funeral though he kept his distance. I saw him standing among the oak trees, looking on at the ceremony.

Now seeing him here on my front porch, Warren stood out- a terribly sharp reminder of everything that had brought us up to this point.

A deep silence hung in the air before I spoke. "Hi."

"Hi," he echoed.

"How's your father?"

"Uh… well they cut him up pretty bad. And Jana did a number on his heart, killing him so many times and bringing him back. But he'll live."

"That's good," I said softly.

Warren glanced at the floor, looking vaguely hesitant. "I…my dad…we wanted to thank you. For helping him. I mean, you didn't have to."

"Yes I did."

He looked up sharply at me. "No, you didn't," he said sincerely. "That's what I don't get Arrian. I mean, why? Why would you do that, after everything he's done to your family?"

I stared at him, confused. I thought it was obvious. "Because," I murmured, "it was the right thing to do."

Warren's face flickered with an expression I couldn't identify. Then he exhaled at length. He didn't say anything else for a while.

Sighing, I sat down wearily on the steps, placing my shoes beside me. Warren joined me. My face must have betrayed my emotions because it prompted Warren to say, "Arrian, it's over. There's no use torturing yourself. Few people ever get it right the first time. And mistakes happen."

"This one cost me a life."

The tears came suddenly and I quickly turned my face so that Warren wouldn't see. Mercifully, I was able to blink them away and as I did so, I heard him say quietly, "It won't always be like this. I mean once you've finished training-"

"I'm not going back." The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

There was a pause. Then Warren said in a low tone of disbelief, "What?"

I closed my eyes, bracing myself. "I said I'm not going back to Sky High. I can't do this anymore, Warren. I thought I could, that I could really make a difference. But I can't bring myself to…" I shut my eyes tight, trying to will away the horrible memory of watching my cousin dying before my eyes. "I can't bring myself to hurt anyone else, even if they _are_ a villain."

For a long time there was no other noise, except the ridiculously cheerful sound of birds singing somewhere. Then Warren spoke.

"If that's your decision…then fine. Can't say that I agree with you. The fact is, you did make a difference. You saved my dad's life." He sighed and leaned backward, resting his elbows on the top step. "It's too bad. You have so much to offer the world."

"Then tell me it'll be better than this!" I said sharply. "Just say that being a Hero, fighting evil, having to _kill_ people if necessary- that it'll never feel as horrible as this and I'll believe you."

"You know I can't do that. I'm not going to lie to you." His voice was harsh. "Arrian, no one ever said it was going to be easy. But you weren't given this gift by accident. Whatever your choice is, nothing's going to change who you are."

Suddenly he got up and made his way down the steps. It was when he reached the gate that I called after him.

"That's the thing about Heroes, isn't it? For all the good we do and the people we save…we rarely get our own happy ending." I glanced up at him. "Maybe we're not meant to."

Warren gave me a long thoughtful look. "I think we are. We just have to fight for ours a little harder than everyone else."

**Epilogue**

On my desk stands a picture. A picture of a nine year-old Anna, posing with her ten year old cousin, Paul. Big grins, arms slung around each other's shoulders. There were no powers to worry about back then; no care about villains and heroes. It was just us and childhood dreams about how we were going to make the world a better place someday.

I wish… that I had protected him.

But I failed, too distracted by something so silly, so meaningless as-

"…that project, that _stupid project_!" I screamed. With an angry shriek, I throw the picture across the room. The glass shatters noisily against the wall. The sound brings me back to my senses. In horror, I run to the place where it fell.

The glass is ruined. Gently, I brush the shards away and pick it up. I carry the photo carefully to my desk drawer. As I do so, I think about what Warren said to me today- about choices and making a difference. My life has taken a tragic turn and two choices now lay before me: to abandon my hero heritage and pursue a life of normalcy and safety. Or to choose the other way…the way of sacrifice, of selflessness… the way of dark adventure.

I place the picture inside and shut the drawer. No longer a promise of better times. It's only a piece of paper now- a memory.

The End


End file.
